Ineffable
by JoMarchWrites
Summary: Often, words fail, or aren't enough, to convey the deep emotions and tremendous experience of unconditional love. However, actions speak louder than words. It's a game of show and tell, and two detectives are winning. (Very M!) EO
1. Ineffable 1

**_ineffable: (adj.) unspeakable, incapable of being expressed through words (It is said that the experience of swimming with a dolphin is_** ** _ineffable_** ** _and can only be understood through direct encounter.)_**

 ** _Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

"Come on," Olivia mumbled, toeing off her shoes in the corner of her living room. She struggled to find the light switch with her elbow as in her hands she balanced a paper bag filled with food she probably wouldn't eat. "Forget it," she huffed, receding, wandering blindly over to the couch. She let the greasy bag fall onto the coffee table, pulled her tee shirt over head, tossed it across the room, and plopped into the waiting cushion.

She fell back into the seat, sighing, letting her eyes close. She felt, then, something tugging at the strap of her tank top. She furrowed her brow as a small noise escaped her slightly smiling lips. "You are so lucky I'm too tired to reach for my gun."

The man, now trailing his fingers across the exposed skin of her neckline, let out a low laugh. "You wouldn't shoot me." He bent his head and let his lips linger on her smooth, tanned shoulder. "You wouldn't even aim at me," he said, puckering and dropping gentle kisses along the curve of her upper arm. He moaned, following the path her muscles gave him. She'd been hitting the gym, he noticed, and he shifted in his seat.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her eyes still closed. She felt goose-bumps rising, her body begged for more of him, though she remained still in her spot.

"Rough day," he told her, his head now traveling into the crook of her neck. He kissed softly, twice, before darting out his tongue and licking a long, slow line toward the spot behind her ear. When she moaned a bit louder, he smirked to himself. "Tired?" he asked in a whisper before taking her earlobe into his mouth and sucking hard.

"God," she groaned, "No." It was a lie. She was fucking exhausted, but damn did he know exactly how to spark her last ounces of energy into motion.

He let her earlobe go, then traced the coil of her ear with his tongue, earning deeper moans from her. He knew this was one of her most sensitive spots, the first erogenous zone he had been lucky enough to find, almost a year ago.

"Shit," she seethed, her hips beginning to undulate of their own accord. "You're making me..."

"I know," his voice stopped hers. He grinned as he nibbled his way down her neck again, moving under her chin. "That's the idea, Detective."

Her hands flew to the back of his head. Her nails, short though they were, dug into his scalp and scratched circular patterns as he moved up, meeting her lips. They parted, granting him permission, access. It seemed, no matter how many times they kissed, it always felt as though it was the first instance.

The moment was always infinitesimal yet fleeting all at once. Hearts pounding to the same, syncopated rhythm. Mouths sealed, tongues exploring, breaths taken simultaneously though their noses only when suffocation had become a very real possibility. Their kisses, no matter where or when, were conversations. Unspoken words and emitted feelings, binding and connecting before being set free.

She was the first to pull away, as she usually was. "We shouldn't..." she started, but this attempt to gain moral ground, like every other, would be fruitless. She caught his eyes and blinked, unable to refuse the love and the lust set deep in them. "Not...not on the couch."

He let out an amused scoff before sinking to his knees and shoving the coffee table and Olivia's abandoned Chinese take-out to the left of him. He held her gaze, staring as deeply into her eyes as he could. He trickled his fingertips up to her sides and curled them into the waistband of her black slacks. As if asking permission, he froze and raised one eyebrow.

She held her breath and nodded, knowing the tightrope walk between right and wrong had been forfeited long ago. She watched him, his eyes still fixed on hers, and raised her hips for him as he pulled the pants down and off of her body.

He rose a bit higher, straining to kiss her again. He bit gently on her lower lip and tugged before kissing her hard again, his fingers playing with the elastic of her silk underwear. He breathed a few words against her lips as he ushered the material away from her skin, chuckling when she kicked them off on her own.

She rolled her eyes and bit her lip as soon as he pulled away; she knew exactly what was about to happen, and she knew there was nothing she could possibly do or say to make either of them want to stop now. She focused on his eyes again, and he on hers, as he dipped low between her legs and grinned like a fox.

He smoothed his palms over her bare knees, easing them apart a bit wider, exposing her to him. The sound that radiated from his throat must have built from somewhere low in his body, it was feral and wild. With darkened, narrow eyes, he bent his head. He spent several moments kissing her inner thighs, stroking the curves of her hips and legs with his hands. He felt her arching, silently begging. The scent of her arousal hit him, and he breathed her in deep before turning his head toward the source. He smiled, raised his eyes to hers again, and set off on his task to devour her completely.

Slow strokes, almost like a painter, up and down, over and over. He used his tongue like a quill pen, swirling secret messages and finishing with a flourish before punctuating each long lick with a nip of her clit. He suckled hard for a few moments, eased back, and started over, licking long lines from the lowest curve of her back to her clit again.

She was growing wetter, more eager, more desperate. She clutched the back of his head and tried to stay splayed for him, though the urge to clamp her thighs against his ears was intense. "Oh, my God," she cried, her breath beginning to stagger and quicken.

He hummed against her clit, then, and moved one hand, torturously slow, toward his working mouth. A single finger found its way to her slick pussy, and with a soft growl, he pushed it into her.

She arched her back and gasped sharply, her nails pressed harder into the back of his head, forcing his face tighter against her.

He moaned again, his eyes rolling back in sheer pleasure as she began to work with him. He licked, nipped, lapped at her, his finger twisting inside of her, and he could tell by the speed of her ragged breaths and soft cursing that she was close. All he needed tonight was this; he hadn't for a second worried about when he'd get his rocks off, his only mission was to make sure she flew to the moon and back tonight.

He moved his free hand to her stomach, feeling the clenching and twitching of her muscles beneath his open palm. He scraped his teeth over her clit twice before biting down and sucking directly on it, pushing another finger into her. He crooked and twisted his digits and flicked his tongue over her clit, faster and faster, matching the tempo of her breaths and squeaks.

"Oh, fucking, God," she cried, her back concaved and both hands gripped his head for dear life as she began to tremble.

He felt her convulsing, and he growled louder against her flesh as he licked slower, but thrust his fingers faster. This was his favorite part. The moment she exploded for him. Only for him.

Her head flew back and his name erupted from her, over and over as she twitched and vibrated.

He waited until the initial waves subsided, lapping at the remnants of her juices on her thighs. He slid up her body, his fingers still slowly working in and out of her, and he peered down at her flushed and dampened face. Without a second's hesitation, he kissed her fiercely.

She moaned and a shaking arm looped around his neck. She kissed him back eagerly as he brought a second orgasm to life in her.

He kissed her, holding her still, until he felt her tremors dissipate. He pulled back a bit, slipped his hand away from the sweet juncture of her legs, bringing his fingers to his lips, and one at a time he sucked them clean.

"What was..." she attempted breathlessly. "I thought you said..."

"You had a rough day," he told her, kissing her forehead. He worked his arms under her and lifted her up as he got to his feet. "You needed that, and fuck, Liv, you know I needed it, too." He carried her into the bedroom, laying her gently on the mattress. He gripped the cotton of her tank and pulled it off, over her head, and unclasped her bra.

She shook her way out of the undergarment as she watched him undress. Every muscle rippled as he moved and it made her ache for him even more. She held her breath when he unbuckled his belt and when his pants dropped to the carpet, she couldn't stop her moan.

"Guess you approve," he teased with a wink, slinking over her naked body. He nuzzled her nose lightly before kissing her again, slowly and sweetly. With one arm, he hoisted her off of the bed just enough for him to work the comforter to the side, then lowered her back down.

She kissed his chest as he reached over her to turn off the lamp, and when he settled to her side and pulled her close, she let out a contented sigh.

There were a few more soft kisses as they tangled their limbs, relishing in the intimacy they had only ever found with each other. It was a long, tender silence, until she exhaled and spoke. "El?"

He hummed.

"I'm very comfortable, and I hate like hell to ask you to move..." she felt the whining rumble in his chest and she laughed. "You didn't let me eat! I'm starving."

He chuckled and gave her a sigh of his own. "Fine," he complained, rolling over and turning the light back on. He tossed the covers off and got out of the bed, padding around the room in all his naked glory, knowing she would be staring at him as he did so. "Be right back," he told her, kissing her cheek and then heading into the living room to grab the paper bag.

He was right. She did stare at him, hungrily and thankfully. She sat up and stretched, exhaling, and the reality of her life set back in. Things she didn't truly feel like dealing with soared to the forefront of her mind. She chewed on her bottom lip as she shot a glance at the clock. "One thirty," she said to herself, just as Elliot ambled back into the bedroom. She grinned, a different sort of hunger consuming her. "Fuck it," she thought, pushing the doubts and misgivings aside. Whatever they were, she decided, they would have to wait.

 ** _Peace and Love,_**

 ** _Jo_**


	2. Ineffable 2

**_Atonement: (noun)_** ** _reparation for a wrong, injury, or sin. Seeking absolution. ("She wanted to make_** ** _atonement_** ** _for her husband's behavior at the party.")_**

 ** _Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

Slamming doors. Cuss words mumbled under breath. Pounding on desks and throwing things. This was the soundtrack of their day, and the reasons couldn't be pinpointed at all.

The words, though. The choice of words that he'd thrown at her shortly before she stormed out of the squad room had stung, cut so deeply, that as soon as she made it home she tried to drown the memory in cold beer. She deliberately ignored the sound of the key turning, and when he walked in, she had every intention of giving him the most frigid of cold shoulders.

One single sniffle. That's what made her turn toward him. She froze for a moment, taking in the slouched figure before her. His eyes were red, his nose was swollen. He'd been crying.

"Liv," was all he managed to eek out before breaking again. Sob after sob erupted from the usually too-composed and cocky man.

Part of her wanted to turn away. He had hurt her deeply, and this was his comeuppance. A bigger part of her, though, the part that often won, needed so desperately to run to him, kiss away his tears, and forgive him all his sins. Her legs moved before her choice had even been made, and he fell into her open, waiting arms.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled into her shoulder, the muffled words being caught in the fabric of her shirt. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it, you know I...I wasn't even talking to you, I...that kid, she looked just like...and I lost it when Warner told me she'd been..."

"Shh," she hushed him, one hand on the nape of his neck, the other digging into his back. "I know, I know. The case got to me, too, that's why when you said..."

"I never should have said it," he interrupted, pushing away from her enough to raise his raw eyes and look at her. "You are. You have always been a second mother to the kids, and God, they know it. You love them like your own, and one day, Liv, I swear...one day..." and the tears rolled again. He shook his head and pulled her back into him, wrapping her tightly in his embrace. He inhaled, the fragrance of Ivory soap, coffee, and the grime of the city filled his lungs and something in him snapped. A voice from the absolute depths of his soul told him "one day" didn't have to be any later than right now.

She felt him pushing her backward, the weight of his body and the hellish day too great to fight, and she followed his lead until she was pressed against the bedroom door.

Done with crying, he moved onto a much stronger emotion. He twisted his hand behind her and turned the knob, laughing victoriously as they tumbled into the room. As he tore furiously at her clothes, more eager to get them off of her than he was to take his next breath, he spoke rapidly. "You said some pretty shitty things to me, too, which I deserved. I know you didn't mean them."

She shook her head, "No," she told him, assuring him that anything said in anger was misguided and impulsive.

"How do you...fucking...get this thing..." he garbled, fighting with the complicated clasp of her bra.

She laughed, both in sheer humor and relief. His inexperience was often comforting to her. "Up," she told him, her own nimble fingers working his buttons. "Pull up."

He yanked, sighed, and gave her a small shove toward the bed. "Get," he commanded, slapping her ass.

With a wink, she laid back, waiting and watching. Her eyes affixed to his face, his eyes brightening and his features melting into an animalian grin. He kicked off his shoes as he pulled his belt apart, shoved his black slacks down, and angled his head a bit before crawling over her.

Staying above her, he used one hand to undo the single button of her pants and slowly shirked them down around her hips, letting gravity pull them off of her shins. He heard them plop onto the floor and he chuckled. His fingers slipped into the creases of her hips, and he moaned in realization when he touched bare flesh. "Naughty, naughty Detective." He trailed his fingertips over her navel and down the curves of her body until they reached their final destination.

She felt him sliding his fingers up and down her slickness, letting small gasps escape when he touched her clit. "Makes things easier," she whispered, bucking her hips up in a mix of anticipation and agony.

A low and somewhat menacing laugh left his throat. He shifted and shimmied, readying himself, and kissed her as he pushed into her.

They let out twin moans, hers an octave higher, and began moving together, writhing. His hips thrust, pulling his length out slowly before slamming forward, to the hilt, in a hard and steady beat. His lips never left hers, his tongue dancing with hers to the same inaudible music.

Her hands slid up his arms and tangled with his, interlacing their fingers above her head. She met every move, uttering guttural groans each time her skin slapped against his. She felt a light sheen of sweat form on her arms, but she didn't care. This is where she needed to be, now and always, and nothing else mattered.

Distantly, matching cell phone ringtones played, and went unnoticed. "No," he whispered, shaking his head. He moved harder, pressing down and holding her captive beneath his herculean body. Powerful thighs worked like hinges, his cock a piston churning toward reverence, sweet atonement, the moment when every wrong would be made right. "Not yet," he warned her, feeling the tell-tale clenching of her muscles around his girth.

She nodded, submitting to him, bidding her body to hold out, knowing in moments like this he absolutely needed her to wait for him. Some part of her registered the blares and beeps of the various devices commanding their attention, but they'd both earned this, and nothing was going to interfere.

He tightened his fingers around hers, his toes curled and he grunted things that made little sense, if they were even English. His body began slipping and sliding, perspiration forming over every curving muscle. "Fuck," he spit out, gasping. He dropped his head to hers, staying there for a split second before invading her mouth again, a tumult of unspoken words and voiceless apologies spilling into a kiss that he prayed would reach her soul.

Caught off guard, she slipped away, crying his name against his parted lips. She spasmed and sputtered soft moans, her body clenching and contracting around him as her back arched and her nails dug into the sides of his fingers.

He followed her, unable to fight against the coaxing of her release. He spurted and growled a version of her name he'd never used before as he felt fire alight in his belly, igniting the spark he needed to keep moving, making sure they'd both be completely spent.

"Oh, my God," she cried, tears springing to her eyes as she convulsed again, letting him rip another blissful orgasm from her. She twitched and rolled against him, keeping him viced inside of her, unwilling to let him go. It wasn't until she felt herself rolling, physically riding the final waves. "Oh, my God," she repeated breathless, her arms now curled around his neck.

He laughed as he tried to catch his breath, peppering her glistening face with kisses as he gave one last heavy rock into her. They stayed, connected and content, kissing and waiting until their phones chirped again. Begrudgingly, they parted and he gave her one last kiss before rolling off of her and watching with a shit-eating grin as she got up to redress. He laughed when she threw his pants at him, rolled his eyes, and got up to get dressed himself. He eyed her again, she took his breath away, and he licked his lips and nodded to himself, assuring his subconsciousness that until "one day" arrived, he'd spend the time proving his worth and building upon every dream she'd ever had. He decided, then, he would kill anyone who ever threatened to take her away from him, and he would not, for a single moment, be sorry about it.

 ** _Peace and Love_**

 ** _Jo_**


	3. Ineffable 3

_**Zenosyne: ( n.) the sense that time keeps going faster**_ _ **(I can't help but feel zenosyne whenever I look at my son and see how big he has gotten.)**_

 _ **Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.**_

 _"_ _I wonder if she knew," Olivia mumbled to herself, unaware it was out loud._

 _"_ _Who knew what?" Elliot asked in response. He watched her shake her head and hold up the file in her hands. "How little time she would get with her son. That it would be over…so fast."_

 _He took the folder from her and tossed it onto his desk. "Don't," he warned, knowing that she had begun to travel down a tumultuously emotional road. "Don't do that."_

 _She took a deep breath and nodded, pushing their last case and its victim to the back of her mind. She rose form her seat and grabbed her jacket off of the chair's back._

 _He followed her lead, flicking off the desk lamp and shutting the open drawer. He didn't say a word to her as they walked out of the squad room. He didn't have to._

 _He knew exactly how she felt, ten times over, because every time he got new school photos or had to go shopping because Eli had outgrown his pants, he felt the same thing._

 _Not with her_ _, he thought to himself. He walked beside her, down the steps and out of the glass doors, into the night. In comfortable silence, he led her to his car, opened the door, and watched her sit. He sighed as he closed the door and ran around to the driver's side._

 _She eyed him as he sat, and she watched intently as he jammed the key into the ignition and turned. "What?" he asked, huffing in exasperated impatience._

 _"_ _You tell me," she returned, buckling her seat belt._

 _He shook his head and scraped his teeth over his lips. There were no words, none at all, that would make any sense if he tried to explain the worry clouding his mind. He took a sharp breath, clearing his throat on his exhalation, and he pulled the car over._

 _"_ _What are you doing?" she asked, concerned._

 _He stopped and parked, turned off the engine, and twisted in his seat to look at her. "Time…we have all of it and not enough, I look at Maureen and I wonder where the hell twenty-five years went. I look at Eli and I think, shit, wasn't he in diapers last week? But with you…I look at you, and time stops."_

 _"_ _What are you talking about?" she shot, eyes wide._

 _"_ _A moment with you…is forever. We…we missed out on, God, years together, but it feels like I've known you…loved you my whole life." He blinked. "I'm not making any sense, I'm bad with words and this…it's hard to explain, I…"_

 _"_ _I get it," she interrupted. She caught his eyes and the need to speak dissipated. She reached for his hand and when her fingertips brushed against his wrist, everything became clear._

 _He twisted again, this time pulling her, begging her to crawl over the gear shift and onto him. He struggled a bit to reach the latch beneath the seat, and when he pulled they both laughed, falling flat with the reclining back._

 _"_ _No one said this was graceful," he chuckled, reaching his hand up and wrapping them around her neck._

 _She laughed, shaking her head, and then bent down to kiss him, maneuvering into as comfortable a place as she could get. Peering down at him, she felt what he'd been trying to describe. Looking into his eyes, being in his arm, tasting his kiss, it all made time pass so slowly, every moment savored and committed to the deepest tombs of memory._

 _He slipped his hands up her shirt, smoothing them along the skin of her back, his palms warming her muscles. He moaned when they twitched under his touch._

 _It felt somewhat silly, vastly immature, and just a bit naughty, making out in the car, but as it always was with him, it was right. Growing bolder, she tugged on his belt, feeling the metal give and the leather slide._

 _He made an unsure sound, but gave a good thrust, pushing her up with his hips so she could pull his belt completely off. He laughed at her wagging eyebrows as she tossed the belt toward the backseat. He trailed his fingers over her shoulder and down the front of her body, letting his thumbs skim over her clothed nipples, and he grunted as she rocked into him and moaned his name._

 _She lowered herself and kissed him, reaching for the button-fly of his jeans, but the whoop of a siren broke them apart. The glare of flashing red and blue lights filled the car with an eerie glow. "Jesus," she hissed, leaping off of him and scrambling to get into the passenger seat. "Did you park…" she looked out of her window as she straightened out in the seat. "You're next to a goddamned fire hydrant Elliot."_

 _He laughed. "Well, I wasn't planning on staying long," he said, fixing his seat and reaching into his pocket for his badge. He rolled down the window before the uniformed officer could knock. He flashed the badge._

 _"_ _Oh," the young man took off his dark blue cap and nodded an apology. "Sorry, Detective Stabler." He bent his head a bit and looked into the car, smiling at Olivia. "You two on a stake out? Nabbing a big, bad guy?"_

 _"_ _Trying to," she said, nodding. "Think the lights and siren scared him off though, thanks."_

 _"_ _Oh, wow," the young cop looked crestfallen. "I'm so sorry, I…I, uh, I will, um…just go, then. But, you know, you were parked in a…"_

 _Elliot held up a hand and nodded. "We're moving the car. Goodnight, uh…" he squinted to look at the name badge. "Mosquero."_

 _"_ _Goodnight, Detective," the officer put his hat on his head and walked back toward his squad car, muttering self-effacing phrases and shaking his head._

 _"_ _Poor kid," Olivia said, buckling her seatbelt. "He's going to feel guilty for days."_

 _Elliot laughed as he started the car. "He deserves it, Liv! Look what he interrupted here!" He reached across the console and took her hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing her knuckles as he drove away._

 _He chuckled again, this time to himself. He didn't mind the interruption, really. He knew they'd pick up where they left off when they reached her apartment. There was no need to rush; together, they had all the time in the world._

 _ **Reviews are welcome and so appreciated.**_

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_


	4. Ineffable 4

**_Arcane: (adj.) understood or known by few; mysterious or secret. (The arcane ability to perform magic tricks is only one of his many talents.)_**

 ** _Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

Captain Cragen, sitting exhausted in his rolling leather chair, rubbed a few fingers into the aching spot on his forehead. He exhaled deeply as he flipped open another manila folder. He cleared his throat and stiffened as he lifted photographs and written statements out of the file.

This was the part of his job he despised the most. Yearly review of cases and the detectives who worked them, along with the list of mandates handed down from One-P-P, was enough to make him want to drink. The metal coin in his pocket was enough to keep that want at bay.

He always lost a detective or two after reviews came up. Someone dropped the ball, someone was paid off, or someone grew a little too power-hungry. Tonight, he was faced with the review of his two best and brightest. The pair of them had the highest closure rate in the city, though they were not without faults.

One was arrogant and hot-headed, the other too sensitive and emotional. One walked around like he owned the place, the other followed not behind but beside him, just as sure. Most arcane, though, one could not and would not work without the other.

It had been years, thousands of victims, hundreds of trials, blows with bad guys and still, no matter how angry they were with each other, there was never a moment of absolute write-off. They'd defend and support each other, sacrifice themselves to ensure the safety of their partner.

Today was no exception. The case got under Cragen's skin, and when another victim turned up, he let his irritation loose. He knew his chosen target didn't deserve it, but damn it, he was mad. He expected her to take it for what it was, misplaced anger, and get on with the job, but what occurred as a result had left him feeling guilty.

Cragen was only on the fifth case-file, out of the fifty they'd racked up in the past year, and he'd already spotted broken rules, insubordination, and, if he was being completely honest with himself, evidence of improper fraternization between them. Elliot's words echoed in his mind, his quick-defense of Olivia overshadowed any professional respect, and it stung.

"Damn it," he said with a grimace, his hand darting toward the bridge of his nose. "How am I going to..." he started to speak, but shook his head. He let his hand drop to the desk with a hard thud. With new determination, he ripped the top sheet of his notepad off of the spine, crumpled it, and tossed it into the bin under his desk. he cracked his knuckles and picked up his pen, licked the tip of it, and set himself on the task of writing the most honest recommendation he'd ever composed.

"You're home late." His voice was like sandpaper. He'd been sitting in darkness, on the cold sofa, waiting for her. The beer in his hand had gone warm, despite the chill in the air.

She squinted as she flicked on the light, noticing him flinch as she did so. "Why are you even here?" It wasn't the first question she'd wanted to ask him, but it was the most appropriate.

He shrugged. "Where else would I be?" He moved over, watching her walk toward him. He followed her hands with his gaze as she set down a paper bag, no doubt filled with cartons of take-away food. "Where were you?" he asked again, more desperation in his voice.

She sat beside him, tossing her keys onto the coffee table beside the bag. She leaned back and sighed, kicking off her shoes and running her fingers through her hair. "Just out," she said, crossing her arms. "I needed to clear my head, today was shitty and you were with the kids. I..."

"Who were you with?" he asked, interrupting her, curling his body toward hers.

Realization hit her, and she sat up straight. She stared into his eyes and grabbed his hands. "Are you okay? What's the matter?"

He shook his head and swallowed the lump that had built in his throat. "I needed...what happened with Cragen today, I...I was way out of line, Liv. I think...he's not gonna let this one slide, and I just need to know if you..."

"Slow down," she whispered, her hands running up and down his arms. "Breathe. This isn't the first time you've yelled at him, El. He knows you."

"You know what today is?" he asked her, pulling her gently toward him. He wrapped himself around her and kissed the top of her head. "The date?"

"Yeah, it's the Twenty..." and her face fell. "Oh, shit."

"See why I'm worried now?" he said with a nervous laugh. "If he goes in there, pissed off at me, in a mood, I'm done." He took another breath and shook his head, and then pushed her slightly away from him. His eyes dropped to hers and he gave her a half smile. "Forget it," he said hoarsely. "Doesn't matter. Just a job."

She narrowed her eyes at him, taken slightly by surprise when he leaned in quickly and kissed her. She felt his hands grip the back of her head, his body lurch forward and press into hers, and she moaned against his lips.

"Need you," he mumbled as they kissed. "Now. Liv." He begged her with another kiss, pleaded with the way his fingers seared their prints into her skin. He pulled away from her and took a few shaky breaths. "I meant it," he told her.

She raised an eyebrow as she got off of the couch. She held out a hand and nodded at him. "What?"

He took her hand and followed her lead, rising up and walking with her into the bedroom. "What I said to him, and I'd say it over and over again if I had to, Liv. No one talks to you like that. Not even him."

She left the door open as she guided him toward the bed and silently urged him to sit. She unbuttoned her shirt, slowly, her eyes focused on his.

He pulled his cotton shirt over his head and threw it over his head. "What he said about you, I..."

"Shh," she hushed, laying her pointed index finger over his lips. "I know." She straddled him, her bra-clad chest pressing against his as her arms looped around his neck and her lips latched onto his.

They both knew no one understood the bond they shared. The way they were with each other baffled everyone around them, frustrated anyone else who tried to get close to either of them. They're mystifying connection was he reason for her series of unsuccessful relationships and his failed marriage. It was the reason for unorthodox work ethic and groundbreaking detective work. Onlookers would only see their partnership as doing more harm than good, but to them it was not simply the best thing in their lives but a miracle. The fact that no one else understood only made it more of one.

He moaned into her partly-opened mouth as he felt the metal clasp of her bra give out under his fingers. He shifted their position to pull it off and grunted when he felt her sharp nipples graze across his chest.

She responded with a moan of her own, and then bit down on his lower lip, pulling it, sucking on it, and kissing him again. She grappled with his belt buckle as he worked the zipper of her slacks. They managed to disrobe without having to break apart, softly spoken promises and murmurs of devotion passed between them as they found rhythm.

He laced their fingers together, bringing her arms up over her head as he flipped them over, bending his head to kiss her neck as he thrust. He pressed her down into the mattress in an effort to get deeper into her.

Her eyes rolled back and her fingers curled around his. "El," she breathed, her feet sliding up his thick legs.

He felt her ankles link around his back and he grunted out a gruff, "Fuck, Liv," and began to move faster. He felt a pang of guilt, but nights like this foreplay and words were not needed. They understood each other, sometimes even more than even they could comprehend. "Liv, I..." he trailed off, his words taken by a soft growl.

She wriggled beneath him, her teeth scraping over his jaw and grazing his neck. She whimpered when he grew rougher, needing more. She turned her head and craned to reach his ear with her mouth, catching his lobe in her teeth. "More," she whispered hotly.

Another growl and a harsh, "Fuck, yeah," came from his throat as he shifted his body, bending a bit more at the knees for leverage and pushed his upper body to hover over hers. He looked down at her, anything he needed to say being spoken through his eyes and wicked grin.

She pulled her hands from his and brought them to his face, cupping and holding, telling him she felt the same. Her eyes rolled again and her head fell backward.

"Uh-uh," he warned, earning him a chuckle from her. "Up here."

She strained to keep her focus on him, biting her lip, and she knew he could feel her clenching and throbbing around him.

He had to work harder to thrust, grunting with every hit of his hips. He felt her begin to quiver and he gasped, slanting his mouth over hers just in time to absorb the cries and loud moans her orgasm ripped from her.

She felt tears springing to her eyes as yet another climax built, fiery and demanding. She gripped him tighter, needing him to fall with her this time. "Please," she whined, her body twisting in spirals underneath him.

He gave two more hard and powerful thrusts, and then stilled, deep within her as his body pulsed and vibrated. "Oh, God, Liv," he huffed, repeating it many times before he felt her twitching subside. He loosed his grip on the sheets and brought his hands to her body, caressing her face. He flopped to his left and took her with him, keeping her limp body on top of his, remaining inside of her.

Silence filled the room, but for their breathing and pounding hearts. She dropped tender kisses to his chest and he returned them to the crown of her head as his hands danced around her back. He ignored the burn behind his nose and gave her ass a playful swat.

Her laughter broke the seriousness, and he sighed and held her to him. He opened his mouth, eager to finish telling her what he so desperately needed to say. Before he could speak, his phone rang.

She whined in annoyance as she slid off of his slick body and reached almost painfully for his discarded pants. She dug into the pocket and grabbed his phone, holding it out to him as she returned to her spot on his chest with a flop and a grunt.

He laughed at her, kissed her head again, and then answered the phone. "Stabler." He froze, hearing the voice on the other end. "Yes," he said.

Olivia lifted her head to look at him, curious, as he held a finger to her lips.

"No, no, not a problem. Thanks. Yeah, see you tomorrow." He hung up, a dazed and confused expression on his face.

"What?" she asked, kissing his finger.

He smiled at her. "That was Tucker. He, uh, he got our review from Cragen," he explained.

"Oh, God, you got fired," she gasped, sitting up on him.

Laughing, he pulled her back down. "Nope," he said with a sigh. He curled himself around her again and kissed her hard as he closed his eyes. "We're leading a partnership seminar tomorrow."

 ** _Reviews are welcome._**

 ** _Peace and Love_**

 ** _Jo_**

 ** _MarchCommaJo on Twitter_**


	5. Ineffable 5

_**Palpate: (v.) medical term meaning to examine with the hands (I told my doctor I felt pain my shoulder, so he began to**_ _ **palpate**_ _ **my rotator cuff.)**_

 _ **Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.**_

Things were beginning to pile up. Everywhere. Paperwork piled up on her desk, bills piled up on her coffee table, and heavy emotions she'd been ignoring for months piled up on her head and her heart. The persistent banging in her temples kept her awake, and the pain wouldn't dissipate no matter how much coffee she drank or Advil she choked back.

He plodded out of the bedroom, rubbing his eyes, his sort hair in wonky, spastic points. "What are you..." he stopped, then, as his eyes fixed on her pallid figure. He let out a slow breath as he moved closer to her, taking in the almost tragic sight.

Her head was hung low, cupped in her hands. Her elbows rested on the coffee table, supporting the weight. Her fingers twisted the skin of her forehead, stretched and pulled at her eyes, as she tried in vain to ease the pain.

In deliberate silence, he treaded softly over to the kitchen sink, quietly opened the cabinet above it, and grabbed a glass. He cringed when the sound of the water hitting the bottom was a much louder 'clink' than he'd anticipated. He turned off the faucet and toed his way over to the couch, sat beside her, and handed her the glass of cool, clear water.

She took it with a small nod, not glancing at him, and attempted to roll some pressure out of her neck.

He sighed and pulled her head down to his shoulder, looping his arms around her. He kissed the side of her head as she put the now empty glass down on the coffee table, and she moaned in response to his much stronger fingers taking over where hers had left off.

He circled her temples, applying pressure, and then moved his thumbs under her eyes. He pressed and rubbed along her cheekbones, working out any small amount of tension that lay hidden there. "Talk to me," he whispered, knowing the headaches had been severe, but due to stress.

She shook her head, moaning once more when she felt his hands, still kneading at her flesh, move down to her neck and shoulders. Responsively, she turned, angling her body for him, silently begging him not to stop.

He chuckled and worked his thick fingers into the divots of her shoulder blades, pressing firmly and easing out several kinks. "Relax," he cooed, lowering his head. He dropped soft kisses to the nape of her neck as one hand brushed her hair out of the way. "Slow breaths," he told her. His thumbs dig into the middle of her back, grinding along either side of her spine.

She moaned, yet again, and her body began to tingle with the beginnings of some sort of relief. She mumbled something incoherent, hoping he'd make sense of it.

Laughing, he kicked one leg out to move the coffee table, then slid off of the couch onto the carpet. On his knees, he tugged gently at the soft, cotton tank top she was wearing.

She let him guide it off of her, then followed his command to meet him on the floor. Her weighted eyelids drooped as she looked at him, but she attempted to smile.

He craned his neck and kissed her slowly, pulling her down. Once he flattened her out, he splayed his palms on her shoulders again. As he rubbed, he thought powerful things to himself. Running calloused fingers over her muscles, he let the full strength of them hit him. Her shoudlers were strong, carrying the weight of the world on them and never buckling. As he ran his fingers up and down her arms, he remembered that they were the arms that held him, supported him, lifted his children, held up countless victims when no one else would or could. Her hands, he mused as his thumbs worked circular patterns into her palms, were weapons. She'd saved the world with those nimble fingers and iron fists.

He moved slowly over her, easing into a straddle to reach her neck and chest at a more comfortable angle. And though it wasn't his intention, he knew by the sly expression forming on her face that she could feel exactly what effect her miraculous body was having on his. He smirked and gave her a playful thrust, making her moan and roll her eyes.

When he dropped his hands to her chest, he watched her face, noticed her biting her bottom lip and slightly rolling her eyes. He tried to tell himself to focus on easing her tension, but fuck, he wanted her. He ran his open palms down the middle of her chest, down around her navel, then back upward, finally allowing them to smooth lightly over her nipples, which peaked immediately at the barest hint of his touch.

At her throaty groan, he ran his hands over them again, his palms grazing the hardened, rosy buds, earning more whimpers and an upward thrust.

He licked his lips, knowing her headache was all but gone, and bent forward, eagerly capturing her lips in a warm, slightly wet kiss. His fingers curled around her nipples and he pulled a bit, catching her yelp in his open mouth.

Her arms were far too relaxed to move, but she needed more of him, needed him closer. She bucked upward, purposely hitting into his fully formed erection, hoping like hell he'd take the hint.

His answer was a sharp twist of both of her nipples and a chuckle. He ran his tongue along her teeth, then flicked at the tip of her tongue with his, making her silently beg for it. His left hand remained where it was, rolling and teasing at her chest, while his right skimmed downward, lower, reaching behind him to swoop into her flannel pants.

She gasped against his lips when she felt his fingers graze over her wet heat, and unconsciously she let her knees fall a little farther, opening herself to him.

"Eager girl," he teased, nudging her nose with his. He kissed her again as his fingers slipped deeper between her folds. He moaned in appreciation, growling into the kiss as he rocked his fingers back and forth, feeling her grow slicker with his touch. He let the pads of his fingers circle her clit, loving the small sounds reverberating against his lips.

She arched her back as she felt his fingers pushing into her, a small cry of his name flying our of her mouth when his thumb flicked at her clit again. Torture, she thought. This was pure, blissful torture. With another wriggle of her hips, she felt his cock straining against the fabric of his sweatpants, knowing he was being driven mad just as she was.

He flicked his fingers back and forth inside of her, loving the way she clenched and twitched around them. He heard her moan again, this time it sounded like a frustrated cry, a plea. He pulled his hands away from her at once, and then, staying focused on her eyes, brought two fingers, the two that had been searching for treasure in her depths, to his lips.

She nearly came as she watched each digit disappear into his mouth, the way his eyes narrowed and filled with heat, the gutteral, gravelly growl that escaped as he tasted her. It was all almost too much. She squealed in surprise when he suddenly grabbed her pants and pulled down hard, and then she laughed, watching him nearly rip his own off completely.

He saw her eyes widen and darken when he revealed himself to her, and with a cocky smirk, he straddled her again. He knew she was watching his hand, knew she was fixated on him as he stroked his cock to full hardness.

She found the strength to reach for him, one hand curling around the back of his head, and she urged him down to her, her feet sliding up his legs, imploring.

He fell lightly over her, positioned himself, and taunted her, almost relentlessly. He gave her small, soft kisses as he rocked his hips in short, light thrusts, letting his tip tease her over and over, until he himself could no longer take it. He let his forehead fall to hers as he froze, and watching her eyes, he pushed slowly, deeply into her.

Her nails curled into his back, carving out homes in his flesh, giving her solid ground to latch onto. Her mouth fell open as he began to move, hard and powerful slams that filled the room with sounds of slapping skin and throaty confessions made only to each other.

He kissed her hard and moved his body faster, reaching one hand down to grab her leg. Settling his fingers behind her knee, he lifted, spreading her wider. He mumbled a low cuss as he pounded into her, pulling out fully before hitting to the hilt and reaching newly discovered sweet spots. He knew she was close. He could feel her body lightly convulse beneath him. He felt her starting to tighten around his cock, requiring more strength to thrust through, strength he wasn't sure he had.

She gripped him like a vice, wrapping herself around him. Her teeth grazed the thin skin where his neck met his shoulder and she whimpered and trembled against his body in an effort to hold on for him.

He was losing resolve, losing his sanity it seemed, as he began to spout a series of gristle-edge "fucks" and "Oh, Gods" with every forceful hit.

She was the first to lose footing, sinking her teeth into his neck to muffle the loud scream erupting from her throat. She shook violently against him as every muscle in her body spasmed.

"Oh, fuck," he choked out, driving into her one last time. He couldn't pull out of her now, her body locked around his. He heard himself let out shuddering groans as her pulsating contractions milked him completely. He held onto her, stayed where he was, smoothing his hands over her heated, shimmering skin until the tremors and jerks subsided.

He closed his eyes and swallowed hard, a small sigh hitting his ears. He blinked and looked down, and he grinned in arrogant satisfaction.

Beneath him, she'd gone limp. Jelly-like limbs flopped lazily over his body and there was no longer a single trace of tension or worry in any cell of her body. She moaned his name through tingling lips and peered up at him with a content, loving smile.

He kissed her again before dropping to her side and curling around her. He flung an arm backward and grabbed the throw off of the sofa and draped it over them, knowing neither had the energy to make the journey back to the bedroom. "How's your headache?" he asked in a soft voice, kissing the back of her head.

"What headache," she retuned with a small laugh.

He chuckled, too, but then he sighed and pulled her closer. He whispered, "Whatever you're worried about..."

"It's nothing," she whispered back to him. She turned herself around to face him and tangled her legs up in his. Pressed tightly to him, she kissed his still glistening and heaving chest. "Nothing at all," she sighed, nuzzling him.

He kissed the crown of her head again, and he felt as though he knew exactly what was bothering her. He smiled as he closed his eyes. Like he had done with her headache, he knew how to make the problem go away.

 _ **Reviews are always welcome.**_

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_


	6. Ineffable 6

_**Pervade: verb.**_ **spread through and be perceived in every part of.** **"The smell of stale cabbage pervaded the air."**

 ** _Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

For the first time since this thing between her and Elliot started, Olivia could feel the thick tension in the air. The squad room felt different tonight, and the deafening silence seemed to tell her that they knew. They all knew. Fin would give her odd looks and scoff at Elliot. Munch whistled what sounded like the theme to "Love Story" every time he walked passed her desk. Even Cragen was acting strangely, being careful to address them by last names only, one at a time, and keeping them desked for most of the night. She was lost, pondering what it all meant, if anything, when her partner's voice broke through the barrier between her and reality.

"I can't spend the rest of the night answering phones," he told her. "I'm sorry, this is my fault."

She inhaled, feeling her lungs fill with stale, dry air. "How is it..."

"We've been benched because of my temper," he said, cutting her off. "Again," he added with an ironic expression.

Olivia squinted slightly at him. "No, we...you mean this isn't about..."

Before she could finish her query, Cragen came out of his office. "Benson," he said with a mild cough. "Go home. You're obviously not getting anywhere tonight." He looked at Elliot. "You...finish that paperwork, get it on my desk before ten, then get the hell out of here." He coughed again, turned on his heels, and headed back into his office.

Olivia stared after him, wide-eyed, for a second before asking her partner, "What the hell was that about?"

Elliot cleared his throat. "Our evals are over, Lord knows what strings he had to pull to save my hide. After I yelled at him the other day, and now this? This was just another big, red, mark in my jacket and Cragen's trying to find a way to keep it from coming back to bite me in the ass. But, really, this...it wasn't the worst thing I..."

"Does he know?" she butted in, leaning forward and dropping her voice. "About us?"

He looked at her, expressionless. "I haven't been fired...or castrated...so I'm going to say no." He cocked his head to one side. "Why?"

"People...they're acting..." she chewed the inside of her bottom lip for a moment. "He told me to go, so...I'll order Chinese, pick out a movie, and wait for you to..."

"Forget the movie," he interrupted with a sly smile. "I'll entertain you, tonight."

She gave him a grin as her cheeks turned a barely-there shade of pink. She stood up, kicked in her chair, and said, "Be careful, huh?" She longed to tell him she loved him, wished she could kiss him goodbye, but she simply gave him a coy wave and grabbed her keys and coat.

He returned her wave and her deep need for a real goodbye, and watched as her figure faded from view.

She felt his eyes on her as she walked away, sighing in relief when she made it out into the hallway. She pulled on her coat as she stepped, her heart matching the rhythm of her footfalls. She chose to take the stairs tonight, hoping that the physical activity would stifle the discomfort of her workday.

The change of surroundings didn't help matters. As she strode through the lobby, she still swore people were staring, whispering. She wondered if he had left visible marks on her neck and no one had told her. Finally making it through the revolving doors of the station house, she sighed again.

The chilly night wind whirled around her, sweeping through her hair. She jammed her hands in her pockets as she walked down the street in the direction of her apartment. She eyed the subway station on the corner as she approached it, but thought better of it. Even with her gun at her hip, she didn't feel like risking a late-night ride on the 6 Train.

She looked up at the sky as she walked, straining to see the stars. It was getting colder, now, she thought, and it would soon be time for her to take a taxi, or risk exposure and ride home with Elliot in the sedan. Tonight, though, the chill was welcome.

There were thirty streets between her upper west side apartment and the precinct, and people still questioned why she had such powerful legs. She laughed lightly at the thought, then scraped her teeth along her bottom lip and moaned, remembering the last time someone had mentioned the power her thighs held. It was Elliot.

She picked up the pace a bit, eager to get her heart rate up to combat her shivering. Although, at this point she wasn't sure if it was the temperature or her nerves. Tonight had felt so different. For months she'd been dreading the moment their secret was unearthed. Months before that, she'd denied there was even a secret to keep. It took almost a year for her to let herself accept what had happened, what now existed between them, and the stronger and deeper they fell, the more afraid she became.

Her eyes squeezed shut as she turned a corner, the heels of her boots beginning to hit the pads of her feet a little too hard. She inhaled slowly again, this time noticing that it wasn't the air in the squad room, or the air in the city that vibrated with tension. It was the air in her lungs.

Having to deny the only thing she'd ever wanted to be able to proudly proclaim was killing her, and it was so obvious now that it permeated throughout, following her like a black cloud. "Fuck," she spat, stopping in her tracks. She licked her lips and stared at the blinking "Don't Walk" signal, wondering if it was some sign from the universe telling her to stop whatever illicit actions she'd been taking part in with her partner.

When it turned white, though, she rolled her eyes. If the best sign the universe could give her was one that changed its mind every ten minutes, then she would just have to ignore it. She climbed the front steps to her building, flinching in slight pain as she swiped her card through the front lock. She opted for the elevator this time, politely smiling at her doorman as she pushed the call button.

Once inside the metal box, she pulled off her boots and gave an audible sigh of relief. It was as if the shift in physical comfort gave her some emotional clarity; a realization struck her almost as soon as her toes uncurled. She heard the ding, watched the silver doors slide open, and padded out into her corridor. She jingled her keys in her hand, allowing the silver one for her door to slip between her thumb and index finger.

She unlocked the door and pushed it open, tossing her shoes into a corner and flicking the light switch with her elbow. She kicked the door closed as she reached for her cordless phone, then walked with it over to the couch. Plopping into the seat, she dialed the number for Mister Chow's, laughing bitterly at the fact she knew it by heart.

She ordered the usual, with two pairs of chopsticks, and kicked her feet up onto the couch. She hung up, but kept the phone in her hand. She thought about making one more call. She swiped her thumb over a few numbered keys, but before hitting the final button, she canceled the call and tossed the phone onto the coffee table.

She ran her fingers through her hair and cleared her throat, letting her eyes close. Instantly, she saw his face. His smile. His eyes. She smelled his cologne and felt his hands on her body. She smiled and let out a soft moan, knowing now that it wasn't just fear and danger that permeated her every thought and every move. It was him, all of him, that seeped into every word, action, memory, hope, and dream. He coursed through her veins and God, damn it, she never wanted him to stop doing it.

Her eyes popped open as she heard the knob jiggle, and she beamed when the door swung open. She almost got some words of greeting out, but he was much faster than her, tonight. He pounced on her like a hungry panther, growling playfully as his lips landed on her neck.

"Jesus, El," she chuckled, her nails running up and down his back.

He peppered her skin with light kisses as he toed off his shoes, hearing them drop to the hardwood floor with two loud clunks. He nipped at her earlobe as he yanked off his jacket, and finally found her lips with his as his hands braced the arm of the couch and he pressed his body into hers completely.

She kissed him back eagerly, and with each burning swipe of his tongue over hers, her fears were assuaged. The desire to keep him where he was, as he was, overtook any worry over her job. Her nails dug deeper into the skin of his shoulder blades and she rocked her hips upward, asking him.

He groaned and pulled his mouth away from hers. "Something you want, Benson?"

Pulling his bottom lip with her teeth, she nodded. She laughed when he growled and sat upright, pulling her off the couch roughly. He held her by the shoulders as he guided her toward the bedroom, kissing her as they stumbled across the apartment.

He pushed through the bedroom door, began to peel off her layers of clothes, and he whispered something against her lips that brought her chills back.

She murmured her reply as she felt the last article of clothing drop from around her hips. She kicked it away and then raised her arms so he could pull of her sweater. He tossed it over his head and began to work at unclasping her bra, and while he was toying with it, she undressed him. She marveled at the muscles twitching beneath her fingers and moaned appreciatively when his pants dropped.

He chuckled as he stepped out of them, the gave her a playful push onto the bed. He crawled over her, looking her in the eyes, and the deep brown of them seemed to relay every one of her emotions. "Liv," he breathed, caging her with his body, "Tell me."

She moaned as she felt his cock play at her entrance, teasing. "I love you," she whispered, and the words echoed in the air for a long moment as she felt him push into her, filling her.

He bent his head and though his words were muffled in the crook of her neck, he said, "I love you, too." He began to move with slow, deliberate strokes, pulling all the way out before sheathing himself completely. He let out small, soft grunts each time he bottomed out, and he seethed every time he pulled back.

"El," she intoned, drawing out the moniker. "Oh, God." She rocked her body as he moved, meeting him, working just as hard for the same reasons, giving to him as much as he was giving to her. "Please," she whispered as she gnashed her teeth around the lobe of his ear. "Please, El."

"Please...what, baby?" he asked, his voice like sandpaper. He picked up speed and one hand moved down her body, smoothing over her leg and gripping her strong thigh. He eased it up, around his body, resting it just above his hip as he pump her faster.

"You know what," she moaned as her head fell back against the pillow.

He laughed. "Uh-uh," he scolded, shaking his head. "Say it."

"Don't stop," she begged. "Please, don't fucking stop."

"Wasn't planning on it," he reassured her, hitting harder and faster. He felt her clenching, tightening, and he knew she was close. "Fuck," he choked. A loud knock on the door almost made him stop, but he drilled even harder. "Who the fuck is that?" he asked with gritted teeth.

"Food," she said on a whimper. "Oh, my fucking God, Elliot." Her back arched and her body began to quiver and convulse beneath his.

He trudged through her pulsating and pushed back through as she squeezed around him. "Fuck," he panted again, knowing they would both blow any second, unwilling to rush or miss the perfect moment. "Liv, fuck, Liv," he breathed in time with his powerful thrusts.

Her back bent a bit more, her head fell back again, her eyes rolled and she let his name roll of her tongue like a prayer. She clamped around him so tightly that any hope of him continuing to plunge into her was lost.

"Oh, my...fuck..." he sputtered as he felt her trap him. She throbbed around him as she came and he lost the last vestiges of control. He shot off, his hips rocking slightly as spasms ripped through his body. He let himself fall onto her as they undulated and heaved heavy and deep, satisfied breaths.

The knocking broke through the air again, and Elliot whined with a grimace. "Why," he complained, struggling to regain not only his vision but his will to move at all.

She answered him with a soft groan and a small but powerful aftershock, involuntarily giving his cock one last pump and making him curse and yelp slightly.

He kissed her, slowly, languidly, savoring her taste. He eased out of her, inch by inch, dragging slowly, earning another glorious moan from her. Kissing her forehead, he whispered, "I love you," and wobbled toward the door, grabbing his robe as he left the room.

Shaking, she sat up. Tremors trickled along her spine as she fought to slow her pulse, regulate her breathing, and get to her feet. She staggered a bit, her legs weak and her balance nonexistent. She, too, grabbed her bathrobe, pulling it on before heading out into the living room to meet her lover.

She finished tying it around her as he turned away from the front door. She smiled at him with hazy eyes, and he smirked back at her. She teetered toward him and wrapped her arms around him, sighing contentedly as she nuzzled against his chest.

Not caring about the bag of food in his hand, he enveloped her and closed his eyes, taking in the moment, breathing in her scent. He kissed the top of her head, and it wasn't until he had opened his eyes that he processed what she had just said to him. He looked down at her as he fell into the sofa's cushion. "Say that again?"

She smiled and sat beside him, taking the bag from him and putting it on the coffee table. "I said...I think we should tell Cragen. Fin. Anyone. Everyone." She bit her lip. "I mean, eventually we...would have to...no?"

He grinned. He knew that there would only be one reason she would want to tell people the truth. Only one thing would make her risk everything else. He pulled her in for another long kiss and said, "Yeah. I'll talk to Cragen tomorrow."

Again, the air around her changed. A newness permeated the room, and she relaxed against him as he pulled out the containers of food. She turned her eyes upward, staring at his smiling lips as he opened cartons and tubs, and she knew that, no matter how they worded it, or how hard they tried to explain what they had, what they meant to each other, the truth at the heart of it all would somehow always be ineffable.

 ** _Please leave some feedback; let me know what you'd like to see!_**

 ** _Peace and Love,_**

 ** _Jo_**

 ** _MarchCommaJo on Twitter_**


	7. Ineffable 7

_**Verbiage:** **(noun) Excessive or meaningless wordiness.** **("After a while, the angry tirade of the school principal had become nothing more than pure verbiage.")**_

 ** _Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

She'd lost track of what was being said, if the man was even speaking English anymore. Her mind had wandered to the first night she'd really spent with Elliot. It was so much simpler then. She was so much younger. No one could have guessed that they'd remain partners for as long as they have, so when it started, it was, as such things often are , wrong.

Sex after work, or sometimes during a break in a case in a quiet room, to release tension, acknowledge the attraction and the chemistry. A secret shared between partners that grew with every subtle look or discreet touch. After months of pretending to go on with their lives, they'd made the decision to bend to the will of their hearts and confirm what they'd been denying for years. Long before they fell into each other's beds, they'd fallen in love.

If keeping hold on the only thing she felt she'd ever done right in her life meant that she would lose everything else, she was okay with it. That was part of the decision, made a year ago, when their relationship became something...words haven't been written yet that could describe it. She sighed and closed her eyes, Cragen's prattling filtering into one of her ears and drifting out of the other without any registration.

She felt his hands, his lips, claiming parts of her body that no one else ever cared to involve, like the backs of her knees, behind her ears, and of course, the inner loops of them. She smirked, remembering the moment his tongue traced the curve of her right ear. The sound she made, the way her body arched into his, and the noise that erupted from him in response. She bit her lip and recalled how slowly and tenderly he was with her, the first time he said the three words they'd long been afraid to utter, and how her heart stopped when she heard herself say it back.

She smiled, then, as she saw his face, vividly, behind her closed eyelids. The way he looked at her as her words hit his ears. The tears in his eyes and the most genuine smile on his face, the relief that washed over him. She heard the promise he made to her back then, loudly, clearly, reverberating in her ears and in her heart.

A loud yell yanked her back to realty, her solemn reverie nothing but a cloud of dust and fog as he head snapped up and her eyes blinked rapidly, trying to focus. "What..what are you..."

"We aren't breaking any rules!" Elliot shouted, his face reddening. His nostrils were flaring, and a long, thick vein bulged under his skin, running from his neck to his temple. "No law, policy, or byline in any code book in the entire fucking state of New York, Captain, prohibits this!"

Cragen pointed a finger at him. "Maybe not, but in this unit, it's frowned upon, and it doesn't take a fucking genius to figure out why!"

Elliot's eyes narrowed. "You think..." his face contorted in what could only be described as incredulous disgust. "You think I'm fucking my partner because...you think I get off on the shit we deal with at work? That it?"

Cragen sighed. "I think two people who work in sex crimes should have...stable...relationships...outside of work. Someone who doesn't see this shit, who doesn't have to look at the world through black-tinted glasses, who can make the most out of..."

"Sex," Elliot spat, interrupting. "It's never just sex, and who better to spend my life with than someone who fucking understands why I wake up in cold sweats, screaming! Who understands why I punch walls and knows how to calm me down when I do! Fuck you for thinking this was anything less than the most powerful relationship I've ever known!" He didn't stop speaking as he reached for his badge and his gun. "Here," he said, slapping the firearm and shield onto the wooden desk behind Cragen. "I know, I'm suspended, again, for telling you to fuck..."

Cragen held up a hand. He moved fast, pulling the black gun and gold badge into his own hands. Sheepishly, he handed them back to Elliot. "No, I...I deserved it."

Taking them, Elliot, with his chest still heaving, nodded only once.

Olivia took a deep breath and finally spoke. "Did you forget I was here or something?"

Elliot's eyes widened. "Uh...yeah...actually." He grimaced and gnawed on his lip. "Yeah...I..."

"Captain," she uttered as she cut Elliot off and stood up, "How could you possibly...after all this time..." she put on hand on her hip and ran the other through her hair, licking her lips in amazement. "You saw this happening long before we did. Didn't you? You knew we...we were becoming more to each other than..."

"I was hoping I was wrong," Cragen interjected. "When did this...start?"

Olivia looked at Elliot, wondering if the honest answer would save them or not. "I have loved him..." she turned to Cragen, "...for so long. I knew I did. I tried to ignore it, but..." she shrugged. "Physically...nothing...nothing happened until..."

"Last year," Elliot spoke. "This wasn't an affair, okay? And it wasn't just..." he stopped and he laughed. "Why are we even trying to explain this to you?" He shook his head. "Liv wanted to tell you, tell everyone, so that when we came in together, left together, held hands in the hallways, kissed on coffee breaks...we could feel normal, and not like we were sneaking around behind your back."

Olivia nodded, crossing her arms. "For the first time in my life, I'm happy, and forgive me if I wanted to share that with the people I consider my family." She swallowed, and it hurt because her mouth and throat had gone dry. "I thought you...of all people...would be happy about this. For us."

Cragen's eyes closed and he, too, swallowed back hard. "I am, this just...a year?" he questioned.

Elliot looked at Olivia and smiled, reaching for her hand. When she fit her fingers in between his and returned his smile he said, "Officially, yeah. But we all know how I felt about her before..." he paused, and he took a deep breath. "We know where this is heading, and we need your support here."

Cragen rubbed his forehead, quiet, and when he looked up at the best team of detectives he had in the unit, he shook his head and threw his arms up in the air. "I can't give you that, right now. What I can give you is a direct order to keep this out of work, separate your work from your personal shit, because I'll be damned if I let this...whatever this is...fuck up the reputation of this unit and my best detectives."

Elliot dropped Olivia's hand, then, the red color repainting his face. "Nice," he spat. "After all these years...just...fucking forget it." He clenched his jaw and turned, flinging the door open and slamming it behind him as he bolted from the room.

Olivia looked from the door to Cragen, then made the choice to run after Elliot, leaving Cragen alone in his office, wondering what in the hell any of the words that had been said truly meant.

Olivia didn't even look over her shoulder as she ran, keeping the blur of his grey suit in her sights as she tracked him. She narrowed her eyes almost viciously as she tailed him down the stairs, through the lobby of their building. The glass door swung in her direction but she hit it, pushing it open again, and called his name knowing it would freeze him in his tracks. "Calm the hell down."

"You heard him, Liv, he thinks I...that we..." his shoulders were rising and falling with every harsh breath and he was fighting back tears as he finally turned, defeated, and dropped onto a wooden bench beside a tree on the other side of the sidewalk. "How could he..."

"El," she breathed, walking over to him and sitting beside him. "Let's look at this from an outside perspective here, okay?" She reached for his hand and linked their fingers, the way he had back in Cragen's office. "No one knew about this...about us. The last time either of us even mentioned anything about our personal lives, you were fighting for custody of your kids and I was breaking up with another temporary..."

"Exactly," he interrupted. "Which is why he had to know, that after that...there'd be us. And to accuse..."

Olivia cut him off again. "He didn't, El, you put words in his mouth, and you jumped to conclusions."

He looked at her and his face softened. He sniffled and dropped his forehead to hers. "How could anyone see us...the way I look at you...and think it's anything less than..."

She stopped him once more, but this time with a kiss. It was soft, slow, her hands pulling away from his and working their way around his waist. She felt him envelop her, felt him pull her closer, and moaned when his tongue swiped over her teeth.

The kiss deepened, then, and his hands began fumbling with the material of her blazer and shirt, eager to get his hands on her bare skin. "Liv," he whispered against her moving lips, "I need..."

"Shh," she quieted him, shaking her head, allowing him to pull off her jacket. She worked on his tie, pulling the knot loose, and that's when it hit her, where they were. She pushed him away and looked around. "Holy shit, what are we..."she paused, looking around and making sure no one in the vicinity noticed their near-lewdness. She rushed to button her shirt up all the way and looked at him, wide-eyed. "We can't, uh, not out here, like this."

"Almost got carried away there, huh?" he laughed, rolling his eyes. "If it's that..." he sighed, giving in to her like he always did. He grabbed their discarded jackets and pulled her off the bench, walking briskly toward the street corner.

They ignored the odd looks and gestures people were giving them as they ran through the city crowd. He stopped short when he reached the corner light, feeling her crash into his back, propelled by inertia. He looked to his left, then his right, and then smirked. "Come on," he said to her, pulling on her hand again. They turned left and ran down the street, half a block. They bounded up the steps to a small hotel, and Elliot flashed his badge at the doorman who simply nodded at them as they rushed in. He raced toward the front desk and flashed his badge, again, and a smile. "We need a room, uh, any one will do, just...police business...emergency."

"Uh...okay, uh...so..." the clerk fidgeted nervously with the active card keys in a pile on her desk. "This one, they just left, so the maid hasn't..."

"No problem, there," Elliot chuckled, looking down at the card key. He didn't even give Olivia time to thank the clerk, he pulled her away and up the stairs to his left quickly. He cursed under his breath when the key wouldn't open the door.

"It's upside down," Olivia said, amused.

"Hush, you," he teased back, turning the key around and swiping. He saw the lock's light turn green and pushed down the handle, hearing the click. He pulled Olivia around to the front of him, smiling, and let the door lock behind him.

She watched him toss their jackets onto the floor, then unbuckle his belt. She pressed her lips together, suppressing a moan, and said, "You know, that poor woman probably thinks..."

"I don't care what she thinks," he said, kissing her and picking up where he left off, unbuttoning her shirt. He let a low growl out as he felt her hands pulling on his pants, ushering them down. He kicked them off and moved forward, forcing them toward the bed. He gave a light push and, breathing heavily, pulled his own shirt off before dropping his boxers. He grinned at her wickedly as his fingers toyed with the waist of her pants.

"El," she whimpered, watching as he eased them off of her body and threw them down to meet his. Her head fell back onto the pillow as she felt his hands return to her hips, sliding down her white satin underwear.

He ran the tips of his fingers along the curves of her legs, grazing the skin behind her knees. He slipped the silk over her feet and grinned at her, letting the flimsy fabric fall to the floor. With one small grunt, he was on top of her, straddling her, peering down into her eyes as his hands flitted with the straps of her bra. "Hey, there, beautiful," he whispered.

She laughed and nodded at him. "Hi, handsome," she said, knowing what he was doing. Her heart gave a good, hard thump against her chest when she realized he'd remembered his exact words, things he said on a night that changed everything. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

"I have a question for you," he whispered, pulling the straps over her shoulders, letting one hand reach underneath her body to unhook the garment.

She bit her lip as she felt the pop between her shoulder blades. "You can ask me anything," she told him, her eyes unblinking.

He leaned down and kissed her neck, then suckled on her earlobe for a moment before letting his tongue dance along the skin behind her ear and then into the curves and crevices of it. He shivered when he heard the incredible sounds coming from her. He kissed her cheek, then her lips, and as he steadied himself on the mattress and positioned himself over her, readying, he whispered against her lips, "Do you love me, Benson?"

"God, yes," she answered, nodding. She curled her fingers around his shoulders and held on, and then picked her head up to kiss him as she felt him push his way into her.

He moved slowly, one hand driving down her left side, gripping her leg as she wound it around his waist. He kissed her still, making the rocking of his hips match the undulation of his tongue against hers. He needed to prove, more to himself than to her, that Cragen's words were just words, no meaning or truth to them. The truth hung between them, now, in their hearts and entwined bodies. No word he'd ever learned in school could convey what he had with her, and he wasn't sure if one ever would. "I love you, too, baby," he whispered on a breath between kisses.

She gripped his shoulder tighter with her left hand as her right began a journey down his working body. She felt muscles move and twitch and she both heard and felt him gasp as her hand clutched his ass, begging for more.

More he gave her, as he thrust harder, just a bit faster, moaning her name over and over as he rocked deeper into her. He felt the burn of his working muscles, felt the sweat form on his back, and he squeezed his eyes shut as he tried like fucking hell to reach the depth of her soul with his kiss.

She whimpered, her head tilting as their kiss grew with fervor. Her cries grew louder, though muffled by their tangled tongues. Her hands tensed and her fingers curled, her nails now digging deeply into the skin to which they so desperately clung. The heat rising from their bodies engulfed them, making the air thick and heavy with need and primal lust. She let her teeth clamp lightly on his tongue and she suckled, making him growl out her name again. She released him and kissed him with more drive and passion than before.

He seethed when he felt his skin tear beneath her nails, but it only riled him up even more. He moved faster, hitting into her her harder, filling the room with the sounds of his stifled grunts and curses and the slapping of slick skin. He felt her body tighten beneath his, felt her still clawing at him and he knew. "Liv," he breathed. "Liv, baby, please."

She bit his bottom lip and her back arched, forcing him deeper.

He came when the most guttural cry of his name he'd ever heard ripped through the air, from her throat, and hit his ears. After one final thrust, he stayed still, and he pulsed and twitched inside of her. He held her to him tightly, feeling her quivering, hearing her repeat his name again and again as her body quaked for him.

"Elliot," she whispered, "Elliot." Her hands loosed their grip, her white knuckles now turning their usual tan. They trailed up and down his back, as she tried to calm, tried to regulate her breathing.

Finally spent, he allowed himself to fall limply onto her, then used what little strength he had to pull them both onto their sides. He looked into her eyes, still breathing heavily. "I love you."

She smiled as she panted. "I love you, too," she told him. "But this was...this was fucking crazy."

He laughed. "Well, it was crazy fucking, I'll tell ya that," he joked. "Seriously, baby, I..."

She kissed him, halting his words, unwilling to hear any sort of apology or explanation. "I love you," she said again, finding it rolling off of her tongue so much easier now than it had in the past.

He kissed her forehead. "We should go," he said regretfully. "We have to get back to work. I have to...I should apologize to the captain. We probably have a case waiting and a stack of paperwork up to the..."

Once more, she kissed him, stopping his words. She was growing very tired of words, and in this moment she only wanted to hear three of them. She pulled back, looked him in the eyes, smiled, and waited.

As if he'd read her mind, he whispered, "I love you."

 ** _Please leave some feedback; let me know what you'd like to see!_**

 ** _Peace and Love,_**

 ** _Jo_**

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	8. Ineffable 8

_**Contrition: (n) atoning or showing remorse for a wrong-doing or sin by an act of physical or emotional apology. Words are often unneeded. "When he realized he'd hurt my feelings, he brought me roses as an act of contrition."**_

 ** _Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

Her shoulders slumped as she trudged into the apartment, tossing her jacket into a corner and kicking off her shoes, not caring that they'd gone flying in two different directions. She rubbed her eyes as she padded over to the sofa and plopped on it, sinking into the cushions. She closed her eyes and scowled, trying desperately to convince the couch to swallow her completely.

She tried without much success to get comfortable and when she spotted the clock on her cable box, she let out a frustrated groan. Rolling her eyes, she got up and dragged herself into the bedroom. Leaving the door open, she pulled her v-neck sweater over her head, again not caring where it fell as it landed on the floor. With a look of disdain on her face, which reflected the thoughts swimming around in her head, she tugged open one of the drawers on her side of the dresser and grabbed an old red and blue flannel shirt. As she held it in her hands, she felt her lips turn upward into something that resembled a smile.

She remembered the shirt, its significance making her heart ache. She let her fingers trail along the sleeve as she remembered the night she wore it for the first time, mere hours after he't taken it off. The smile faded as she turned away from the dresser and she dropped with a sigh to the edge of the bed, and peeled off her socks, then her black pants.

She reached back and unhooked her bra, a relieved breath escaping as it fell away from her body. She slipped her arms through the flannel sleeves and buttoned three buttons in the middle, leaving the bottom undone and the collar open, exposing the very tops of the curves of her breasts. She looked over her shoulder at the alarm clock on the side table, and that same frustrated and annoyed moan flew from her mouth. She fell back, flat on the mattress, and stared at the ceiling.

An intricate pattern in the stucco caught her attention; the longer she stared at it the more it became a clear image. Him. It was always him, she thought with a soft smile. That's what had hurt the most. The way her colleagues stared and whispered, the questions from her fellow detectives. "How long has this been going on?" "Are you serious?" "What the fuck?"

The only one who understood, who was happy for them, was Munch. He was much older, wiser, and had probably seen all the flirting and furtive glances passing between them over the years. Nothing ever got past him. He had smiled, shook their hands, and gave her some honest advice. "Let him see the parts of you that you don't even show yourself, and you'll be together forever." It was advice he could not take himself, which explained the trio of failed marriages he had under his belt.

But it was the reaction of her captain, the man she'd come to love as a father figure and trust just as much, that had been plaguing her since her shift ended. He refused to speak to them about anything that wasn't related to their current case, he forbid them to interrogate their latest suspect together, and when they had to let him go on a technicality, the captain had sent her home while making her partner stay and finish paperwork.

"Not fucking fair," she grumbled finally tearing her gaze from the ceiling. She let her head loll to the side and she gasped, suddenly sitting up. "You're home," she spat, stunned.

"Really?" he quipped, looking around. "Good, because I'm about to strip, and if this wasn't my place, it'd be rather embarrassing, don't you think?" He tugged on his tie and stepped further into the room, never once taking his eyes off of her. "You look fucking hot," he told her, his voice like honey-dipped gravel.

She scooted forward, dangling her legs off the side of the bed. "This is the shirt..."

"I know what it is," he interrupted, his shirt now in a pile with her long discarded clothes. He winked at her as he undid the buckle of his belt and unzipped his trousers.

She licked her lips as the dark cotton pants dropped to his ankles, and she let out a small chuckle when he gave a small kick, sending them off to parts unknown.

He sat beside her, in nothing but his boxers, and before giving her an opportunity to say anything, he kissed her. It was slow, languid, and one of his large and rough hands curved around the back of her neck. He moaned against her lips and let a long breath out through his nose, inhaling her scent when he breathed back in, and then pulled back, playfully tugging on her bottom lip.

She laughed again, and then took a breath of her own. "Are you all right?" she asked, the brief joyous light in her eyes now dim with worry.

"Not really, no," he answered. "I lost my temper in that interrogation, Fin couldn't calm me down the way...the way you do." He shook his head as he took her hand, stood up, and pulled her to her feet. He let go of her and started tossing the decorative pillows off of the bed. He looked at her as he pulled down the comforter and sheets. "Cragen really let me have it when you left," he told her.

"What?" Why?" she asked him, her voice dripping with a mild anger. "He has no right to...I mean, shit, El, we have lousy interrogations all the time, and the DNA wasn't a match so you didn't..."

"It wasn't about that," he said, stopping her from getting too worked up. He jerked his head toward the bed and wrapped his hands around her hips as she moved into the middle of the mattress. He climbed into bed beside her, grinning, and trailed his hands down her body, swooping up under the hem of the flannel shirt.

"El," she warned with a cocked eyebrow, smirking at him.

He gave a throaty chuckle as he poked two fingers into the waistband of her underwear and pulled gently, teasing her as he slid the garment down her legs. "He's got his jockeys in a bunch because of us," he told her, dropping the silk over the edge of the bed and letting it drop to the carpet. "I told him that Tucker didn't have the same reaction, and..."

"Wait, you told Tucker?" she cracked, ignoring his sneaky fingertips playing at her bare hip. "Why the hell would you..."

"I had to, Liv, you know that," he asserted, moving his fingers toward her inner thighs. "He told me he knew something like this would happen, and up until today, he thought we were already..."

"Oh, my God," she moaned, both in response to his statement and his thick fingers sliding home.

He laughed again, almost evilly, and began to pump his fingers slowly as he said, "Tucker didn't even bat an eyelash at this. He just told us he'd write us up if he caught us in any sort of compromising position at work, or if we let personal issues affect..."

"We haven't," she whispered breathlessly. "We won't."

"I know that," he affirmed, dropping his head to her neck. He kissed and bit her sensitive skin as he twisted his fingers and ran the pad of his thumb over her now-swollen and sensitive clit. The movement made her yelp and buck her hips, and he moaned against her neck.

"What...what happened after..." she tried to speak but her body was wracked with pleasure and her brain was slowly turning to mush.

He sank his teeth into her neck a bit harder, earning another sensual moan from her. He dropped small kissed to her chin and then her lips, and he said, "Cragen was pissed that I even went to Tucker. I told him off, told him to stay out of my personal life since it's really none of his concern as long as I'm not doing anything against code, and I walked out of his office. I finished the report, said goodnight to Munch, and got the fuck out of there." He kissed her again as he moved his fingers faster, twisting and dragging them out of her and then back in, hard and deep. His thumb moved again, rapidly, over the nub of nerves.

She cried his name into the kiss and her body quivered, pressure and anticipation building in every muscle and every cell. "El," she whimpered, grabbing the sides of his head. She kissed him back with more vigor, feverishly diving in after every ragged breath she took.

He growled, then, his need for her growing. He used his free hand to tug his boxers down only enough for exposure and freedom. He ripped his working digits out of her and thrust hard, replacing them with his cock. He slammed into her with force, making her cry his name again, and he let a low and rumbling groan.

Her grip on his head tightened as did the rest of her body, and her eager body rose to meet his with every powerful thrust. She was so close, on the brink of an intense orgasm, but she was fighting it, fighting like hell, trying to wait for him.

He moved faster, harder, hitting deeper into her, kissing her almost violently. The gnashing together of their teeth and the grinding pelvic bones brought a pleasurable pain and spurred him on. "Baby," he moaned through his clenched jaw. "Fucking losing..."

She never heard his next word. His name flew out of her mouth on an erotic scream. She lost vision and clawed at his back as her entire body shook with a rolling, electric release.

He gave in when she clamped around him, forbidding him to move anymore. The pulsing of her muscles dragged out his climax, and somewhere at the very bottom at his soul knew that somehow this time, tonight, was something more. Something incredible. He panted as he stilled inside of her, his lips still attached to hers.

She was enjoying the moment, with him, her heart beating with his, escaping the harsh reality of their lives. A swift knock on the door got their attention, and Elliot begrudgingly pulled out of her and ran toward the living room, grabbing his robe off the hook on the way. He opened the door, puzzled, as no one was out there. He was about to go back and start round two with his lover when he looked down and saw it. He knelt to pick up the envelope, and with a furrowed brow, he opened it.

His eyes widened, and then softened. He read the full page twice, understanding it for what it truly was.

Cragen's act of contrition.

 ** _Please leave some feedback; let me know what you'd like to see!_**

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 ** _Jo_**

 ** _MarchCommaJo on Twitter_**


	9. Ineffable 9

_**Anemoia - (n) nostalgia or remembrance of a time or moment you have never known, but wish you had. (At our ten-year reunion, I had a strong sense of anemoia, trying to recall if I had been the one to take my best friend to prom, but the photo on the wall proving otherwise.)**_

 ** _Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

The hours passed slowly, today. There was only one case, one victim, no leads. Waiting for something to happen, an idea to hit her, had evolved into pensive thought. With a dopey smile on her face, she tried like hell to remember her life before Elliot. She couldn't. Not really. She remembered her shitty childhood and rather lame adolescence, but she remembered watching his children grow up, feeling as though they were her own. She remembered a long courtship with him, dates and romantic dinners, nights of passion, moments of adventure. She furrowed her brow How could she remember something that never really happened?

She chuckled to herself, almost bitterly, realizing she had mashed together their lives, their partnership and what their relationship had grown into, and the moments with him had taken the place of moments with people she'd be happier forgetting. The time spent with his kids had filled the voids, transposing memories of being alone to ones that mattered.

"Hey," he spat, flicking a paperclip at her.

It swatted her in the nose and she blinked rapidly, snapping out of her reverie. "What was that for?"

He laughed. "You looked like you needed to come back down to Earth," he quipped. "Besides, I...I, uh, was talking to you." He tilted his head. "You really didn't hear me?"

She sighed and shook her head. "Sorry," she mumbled. She leaned closer to him. "I was thinking about that trip we took to Jersey. The weekend you..."

"Took you and the kids to see my mom," he smiled. "Yeah. We had a great time." His smiled warmed and brightened, and he squinted a bit at her. "You wanna go back?"

She shrugged. "No, I just...I can't remember ever being...never mind," she said with another long, low sigh. "I remember now, and fucking Hell, it sucks." She threw the paperclip back at him, laughing.

"You gonna explain?" he asked, taking the clip between his fingers. He bent and shaped it as he waited for her to speak.

She dropped her hands to her desk, and she said, for the last hour, I've been reminiscing about our life. Ours, El. Your kids...have always felt like mine, and for a while there, I couldn't remember ever being on the outside of your life, looking in." Her eyes turned up in somber resignation. "I can, now, and I hate..."

"You were never on the outside of anything," he licked his lips, took a glance at Cragen's closed door, then turned his head toward the clock. "Come on." He shot up and held out his hand.

She cocked an eyebrow at him, but gave him her hand, letting out a soft squeal when he pulled her out of the squad room and out of the building.

The whole way, he babbled to her, jabbering about how she had been his entire world since the moment they met, and how their life together, now, was the only version of his life he wanted to ever remember. He dragged her to the end of the block and, panting, he hailed a cab for them. "Fin still has the car," he said, looking at her and shrugging.

She rolled her eyes as a yellow taxi pulled up in front of them, and blushed slightly when Elliot opened the door for her and helped her slide into the backseat. He was always a gentleman with her, a far and distant cry from the arrogant asshole he has to be at work. She watched his lips move as he told the driver where to take them, only half listening to the words, and was overcome with a strong desire to kiss him.

He gasped with wide eyes when he felt the yank on his tie, but chuckled happily against her lips as she slanted them over his. He wrapped his arms around her and smoothed his fingers over her blazer-laden back. He moaned almost inaudibly as he deepened the kiss and pulled her tighter against him. If anyone ever asked him to describe what he felt when he kissed her, he'd have no idea what to say. There were no adjectives in any language that would do it justice. "I love you," he whispered, separating his mouth from hers.

"I love ya back," she said with a wink, righting herself. She straightened his tie and gave him another quick peck on the lips. "Why did we leave without telling Cragen?"

He gave her an odd look and sighed. "He, uh...he didn't need to be told, Liv. Our shift was over and it wasn't busy enough to bother staying." He kissed her temple and mentally begged the driver to hit the gas. "You know, he...he apologized."

"For what?" she asked, screwing up her face in confusion. "Bonking you down at work yesterday?"

"Everything," he said, dropping his head back against the seat and biting his lip. "He...let's just say the Code of Conduct for the unit has a shiny, new, amendment." He licked his lips, again, and looked at her.

"That's what was in that envelope," she figured, a crooked smile on her face.

He nodded, smug and proud. "Yeah, he clarified the whole section on fraternization and outlined what would be considered insubordination and what wouldn't. Basically..." he shrugged. "Well, we aren't fucking on our desks during lunch anytime soon. No, uh, hanky panky on company time."

She laughed and shook her head, then quieted as she turned to look out the window. She watched the lights blur as they drove and she sighed when things passed by slower before coming to a stop.

"We're here," the driver said, holding out his hand expectantly.

Elliot shifted in his seat and pulled his billfold out of his pocket. He flipped through the wallet and pulled two twenty dollar bills out, and then slapped them into the driver's hand. He didn't wait for a thank you, knowing it would never come, and he shimmied along the seat with Olivia's hand in his. He pulled her out of the yellow car, and when he slammed the door he pulled her in for a long, deep kiss.

She played with his short hair as they kissed, soft moans flowing freely from her mouth to his. "Take me inside, Stabler, before we have to arrest each other."

"Oh," he said, raising an eyebrow and tugging her toward the apartment steps. "I'm gonna cuff you," he told her with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

She gave him one of her own rather evil sounding chuckles. "Are you, now?" she teased, watching him slide his copy of her security card down the door-lock.

He pushed the door open and, still pulling her by the hand, said, "Maybe," with a wink. He walked her toward the elevator and pushed the call button. "You have been a very bad girl," he scolded playfully, pulling hard on her hand as the doors opened. He kissed her as they slid shut in front of them and made the five-second ride up to her floor enjoyable. He heard the ding, heard the scraping of metal as the doors opened again, and keeping their tongues tangled, he maneuvered and danced his way to her door.

Keeping one arm around his waist, she dug around in her pocket for her keys, finding them with a muffled cry of victory. Guided only by her sense of touch, she found the one for her front door, and jammed it into the keyhole. She turned the knob and laughed as they practically fell into the entryway of her apartment. They kissed, still, more eager, as they each kicked off shoes and tore off suit jackets, not caring where any of it landed.

He couldn't explain it, but something in him snapped the moment they left the police station. He needed to be with her, inside of her, as soon as possible. He put both hands on her shoulders and pushed her toward the bedroom, slowly scraping his teeth along her bottom lip, pulling gently. "Liv," he whispered, "Liv, baby..."

She shook her head, telling him she had no interest in anything he could say at the moment, choosing instead to dig her fingertips into his arms and drag him closer to the bed. She moved her hands toward his tie, pulling the knot apart and slipping out from under his collar. She threw it down and got to work unbuttoning his shirt. She blinked and looked up at him, breathing a bit heavier and biting her lip. She saw her whole life, past and future, in his eyes. She choked on the building emotion and kissed him again as she slid his cotton shirt off of his body. Her finger traced the outlines of his rippling muscles, taking all of him in, and she smiled again.

She dropped her hands to his belt, undoing it, and she laughed against his mouth as he joined her in taking off his pants.

He pulled away from her, keeping his eyes focused on hers, as he pulled down his boxers and peeled off his black dress socks. He let out a soft grunt as he straightened himself up and began to unconsciously stroke himself to a more rigid hardness. His eyes darkened and narrowed as he held her gaze firmly, his periphery catching her hands peeling away the layers of clothing that separated her flesh from his.

When she unhooked her bra, she yelped in surprise; his hands flew to her shoulders and he ripped the offending garment away from her. "Eager?" she teased.

He nodded with a severe smirk, smoothing his fingers along the lines outlining her soft muscles. "I left my cuffs in my pants pocket," he said, almost angrily as he wrapped his large hands around her hips. He lifted her up, grinning, and tossed her onto the bed. "Don't fucking move," he said, pointing at her, trying to appear threatening.

"Ohh," she said her eyes narrowing to slits and her lips forming a tiny, tight O. "Getting a little bossy, there, Stabler."

He licked his lips and eyed her lustfully as he crawled onto the bed and slunk up her body. He came to a stop when his nose met her. "Liv?"

"Hmm?" she replied, nuzzling his nose.

"Scream," he demanded, and then crashed his lips over hers and thrust into her fast, hard, no warning, no foreplay. He felt her loud, crying curse reverberate and bounce around in his mouth and it fueled him. "I knew," he panted, letting the kiss break with a small, wet sound, "How wet you were. That I wouldn't hurt you."

"You wouldn't hurt me, anyway," she breathed, arching her back as he hit into her deeper. "Holy shit," she gasped.

He moved quicker, harder, almost claiming her in a more possessive manner than he had ever before, and he was trying like hell to hit uncharted territory within her. "Liv," he breathed, kissing her, "Fuck, Liv."

She moaned his name in response, looping her legs around his body. She felt his muscles tighten with each thrust, and she took everything he gave her. "El," she repeated, feeling a low fire burn in her body. "Oh, God, Elliot."

He punctuated every thrust with a hard grunt, keeping his eyes on hers, silently commanding her to keep her eyes open and on his. He knew he wouldn't last much longer, having started out of the gate at a hard clip, already halfway to blowing his load when they got out of the cab. He felt his cock twitch as he pulled out of her and when he thrust back he felt her start to clench. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he hissed, trying to keep going, through her clamping. It was too soon. Too fucking soon.

"Elliot," she said, elongating his name and holding it out on a moan. She tensed and felt heat rise. Her moans grew louder, the curses and cries of his name grew closer and closer together.

"Oh, fuck, Liv," he almost shouted as he slammed into her one last time, firing his weapon, emptying his entire magazine, hitting his target. "Oh, God," he whispered, stilling, dropping his head to hers. He felt her continuing to pulse around him, hearing her whimper as her orgasm rolled through her almost interminably.

She clawed along the length of his back, shuddering and convulsing in his arms. "Elliot," she whispered, amazed at the intensity of this unexpected, frenzied tryst. "Oh, my God, Elliot," her voice was raspy.

He looked down at her and smiled. She looked good and fucked, sated, and he brushed his thumb under her eyes and across her cheeks. "You look beautiful," he whispered. He saw her cheeks redden deeply, and he kissed her. "And happy."

"I am happy," she whispered back, blinking, smiling.

"Good," he said with a nod. "Move in with me."

 ** _Please leave some feedback; let me know what you'd like to see!_**

 ** _Peace and Love,_**

 ** _Jo_**

 ** _MarchCommaJo on Twitter_**


	10. Ineffable 10

_**Opia - (n) the intense blending of emotions felt while looking someone directly the eyes, which is considered to feel simultaneously exhilarating, invasive, and vulnerable (Whenever my lover looks into my eyes, it excites me and scares me, because I knew he can see absolutely everything I feel. It's the opia that both fills and breaks my heart.)**_

 ** _Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

It was excruciating, not being able to talk to him about what she so desperately needed. She didn't have a chance to answer his rather impulsive demand. As soon as he made the request, they were called to a crime scene, and it has been nothing but bitter professionalism ever since. They couldn't find a moment alone, Munch or Fin constantly tagging along when they left the room. She scoffed at Fin once, as he tried to help them out with their progressive debating over coffee. Something wasn't right. Something did not feel right at all.

He sensed it, too, and he tried to convey it with his eyes every time he looked at her. He saw more in them as they gazed back in his direction. More than he had in a long time. He wasn't sure if it was a good thing or not, but ever since he'd asked her to take a huge next step with him, he felt more vulnerable when he looked into her eyes. She always had the power to destroy him, but it had never felt more threatening than now.

She caught his leery stare and gave him a soft smile, and then sipped her coffee as she turned away from him. "I have to go down to the..."

Fin shot up out of his seat and spat out, "I'll come with you."

"I think my partner and I can handle it," she said back, a bit offended and very confused. "Actually, Fin, we've been doing this job a hell of a lot longer than you, so are you following us around to get better at it, or just to piss us off?"

Fin, taken by surprise, shook his head and sighed. "No, I...we were just told to..."

"Babysit," Elliot huffed, violently tossing his pencil onto his desk. It bounced and nearly hit Olivia in the head. He watched, wide-eyed, as she thankfully ducked out of the way and then shot him a ferocious glower. He softened his own expression, apologizing, and then spun in his chair to glare at Fin. "Cragen put you up to this? That it? He tell you to watch us, report to him if we happened to make any mistakes?"

"Something like that," Fin said, falling back into his chair. "He's got review coming up. We all do. I bet you two will have to do the same thing to us next week."

Elliot let out a spurning snort. "Doubt it," he said venomously. If he wasn't already on the edge of insanity today, this was pushing him closer and closer to his breaking point. "Where do we have to go?"

Olivia, swallowing her mouthful of coffee, looked back at him. "The morgue. Melinda just texted me, she found something kind of uncommon, wants us to see it."

"Let's go," he breathed, standing up. He walked over to her and let his hand rest on the middle of her back as he led her out of the squad room. He shot out a hand and pointed sharply at Munch and Fin. "Stay!" her barked before finally walking out. He shook off his aggravation and leaned into Olivia slightly. "Alone at last," he whispered.

She laughed. "For, what, ten seconds?" she bemoaned. She stopped at the elevator and slapped her palm against the call button. She realized she snapped at him and closed her eyes. "Sorry," she whispered to him. They stepped through the elevator doors and when they closed, she allowed herself to really look at him and smile. "You really think this was all Cragen's..."

"Yep," he said, not waiting for her to finish. He moved his left hand a bit, toying with the fingers of her right. "So, uh, no prying eyes or ears here, Liv. Got an answer for me?"

She gave one, hard laugh. "Just jump right to that, huh?" she asked, amused. "El, why would you..."

"Because," he began, interrupting her again, "It would just make so much more sense. I know the kids are older, and they wouldn't need someone in the house with them, when I have them, but...for the past two weeks that house has been completely empty. I have spent my nights at your place, and though I wouldn't trade a single second of our time together for anything in the world, I can see giving up your rent over letting my mortgage lapse."

"No one told you to buy a house," she said with a playfully obnoxious tone. She had a slight smirk on her face and said, "Give me a better reason than that."

He tilted his head, seeing now that she was messing with him, and he gave her an arrogant smile. He punched the emergency stop button, bringing the elevator to a jerking halt. "Okay, how's this. The house is closer to the station. We'd hardly ever need the car and can tell public transit to fuck off altogether. My place is bigger...there are...more place to...play." He wagged his brows at her and bit the inside of his cheek. He shifted his weight onto one leg and discreetly tugged on his pants. The mere thought of sex with his Olivia made his stuffy suit uncomfortable.

"Oh, you wanna play?" she asked coyly. She watched his eyes move up to the corner of the metal box, and she knew he was looking at the blinking eye of the camera. She ran a finger up his arm, back down, baiting him.

"Shit," he laughed through gritted teeth. "You really..." he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and found a contact in his list. He hit a button, calling, and waited, his eyes focused on hers, challenging her. "Yeah, it's Stabler. What do you mean which one? No, she's not my...no. No!" he rolled his eyes. "Do me a favor? Oh, yeah, uh, that's us." He waved to the camera. "Stuck, yeah, but, uh, we don't know how long we'll be in here so could you...thanks." He hung up and shot another wave toward the camera, and as soon as the light went from flashing red to nothing at all, he turned on her.

"Oh, this is...this is not playing," she chided, her hands flying to the back of his head as he sank his teeth into her neck. "Not fairly, anyway," she moaned.

"I don't play fair," he ground out with her pulse in his mouth. He worked one hand into her pants, unconcerned with decorum or trivialities like unzipping them first. He pushed aside the silk of her underwear, momentarily wondering what color they were today, and making it a point to pay attention later to find out. He slid a finger up and down, feeling her wetness, eager for him already, and he laughed pretentiously. "I did that," he proclaimed proudly, and then he pushed his finger into her tight heat.

She gasped, nodding as her eyes closed. "Yeah," she said, "You did." Her own fingers were busy, one in his hair and the other trying in vain to wrap around his cock through his pants. "El," she moaned, feeling him shove another finger into her. She grew frustrated and yanked the button fly apart, then found his cock, giving her its undivided attention.

"Needed this," he mumbled, kissing a trail from her neck to her lips. "Gotta make this fast," he whispered against her lips.

And fast it was. He moved his fingers at an intense speed, thrusting and twisting, his wrist aching from the awkward angle. He growled when he felt his lower body rock of its own volition, thrusting as though her hand was another part of her glorious anatomy. "Liv," he panted, and then he growled again. "Oh, fuck."

She tensed and tightened, and she felt his fingers crook and beckon within her, bringing the burning warning of her release. She dig her nails into the back of his head and jerked him faster, harder, holding him tighter. If she was going down, she was taking him with her.

He rolled his eyes and his mouth fell open as he gave three hard bucks of his hips, cumming into her waiting hand. He smiled, basking in the sounds of her own orgasm hitting his ears. His name, over and over, from her lips. It was one of his favorite songs. He lifted his head, and then kissed her deeply, adjusting himself with one hand and her pants with the other. "Holy hell," he chuckled, finding his handkerchief in his pocket. He wiped off her hand as he kissed her again, and just as they pulled apart, the elevator beeped. He winked at her and turned, pushing the button again, and he'd settled against the back wall just as the camera light blinked back to life.

She ran both hands through her hair and took a deep breath, calming herself down, and dropped her arms to her sides, resuming their earlier playful finger-teasing as she tapped his hand beside hers.

"You...uh, you never answered me." He caught her eyes and gave her a hopeful smile. "Move in with me?"

She watched the numbers counting down and seeing they were only a floor away from the basement, she hooked her index finger around three of his fingers. "Of course," she finally said, causing him to snap his head toward hers. She looked into his blue eyes and her heart and stomach gave synchronized lurches. "It's not...I'm not easy to live with. I don't make the best housekeeper."

"Your place is always spotless," he told her, pulling her out once the elevator doors opened. He dropped her hand with a sad groan, knowing he had to.

"Because I'm never there to make a mess," she laughed.

He stopped and pulled her arm, needing just a moment more with her. "We've made plenty of messes. You just don't realize that you have an incredibly domestic side. And I'm not asking you to morph into June Cleaver, okay? It's not what I want, not what I ever wanted. I just want us...officially...stable." He shrugged one shoulder and said, "A step closer to...where I know we both need to be, ya know?"

She noticed something in his eyes flicker, like a candle close to burning out. "What's wrong?" she asked, worried.

He shook his head. "You always know, don't you?" He sighed and said, "You scared me. I just...you didn't answer me and the day has been...tense. I just...I was afraid that you got scared. So...I was scared."

"That's my line," she joked, slapping him in the chest with the back of her hand. "And for the first time in...how old am I?"

He laughed. "I know how old you are," he said with a wink.

"Well," she said with a flirty smirk, "For the first time in that many years, I'm not scared. Not anymore." She tugged lightly on his tie. "What does that tell you?"

He took a deep breath, and he let it out slowly. "It tells me..." he said, leaning closer to her and shoving his hands in his pockets, "That this is gonna work. You and me. And that...I don't have to be afraid that you're gonna get scared."

"No, you don't," she said with a wink. "We'll work out details later, okay? I wanna get this case closed and get Fin and Munch off our asses."

He watched her walk away from him, heading down the hallway to the morgue, and he narrowed his eyes and licked his lips. There was a new kick in his step and it came, without a doubt, from the lewd thoughts about her ass running through his head.

It didn't take long, not at all, for them to speak with Doctor Warner. The case had a new twist and they had a new suspect, thanks to her quick lab work. They rode the elevator back up to their unit's floor, files in hand, and as the doors opened, they were met with the stern, scornful expression of their captain.

"Ooh," Elliot seethed, wincing. "El jefe esta enojado."

Cragen scrunched up his face tighter. "Since when do you know Spanish?"

"Picked it up from Liv," he said flatly, walking with his partner and his captain toward the squad room entrance. "Why are you wearing your pissed-off face?"

"You needed to take one of them with you," Cragen said, gesturing to Fin and Munch. "They were told to..."

"Why?" Olivia spoke, stunning Cragen. She hardly ever questioned his authority, but this time it felt validated. "Because you know we're in a relationship outside of work? You think it's going to affect how we do our jobs?"

Cragen looked at her with a fire in his eyes he'd never elicited with her before. "Yeah, actually."

Elliot shook his head. "That's not it," he said, his words biting. "Pretty sure you know by now, this isn't new, and it certainly hasn't affected us or the work we do, so what's really going on, huh? It's me? You're still pissed at me."

Cragen swiped a hand across his forehead. "You two...I will never be able to fully wrap my head around what happens when you two are together, but when you're not...you know the pile of shit you've handed me with this? I'm fucked! This whole unit is fucking fucked if anything happens and you two..."

"Never gonna happen," one of them declared with a firmness that made the other two stiffen and take notice.

Elliot looked at her, several body parts swelling with emotion, and he knew. He believed her. "Right," he said with a smile he couldn't hide. He looked back at Cragen. "Nothing to worry about."

"Yeah," Cragen breathed with an incredulous jerk of his head. "Prove it. Until you can, you're under more scrutiny than Nixon during Watergate." He gave Elliot a shove in the shoulder. "Back to work."

Olivia turned around, though, and looked at her captain. "This review that's coming up...is it ours?" she asked, and then narrowed her eyes knowingly. "Or yours?"

Cragen was silent. He chewed on the inner part of his bottom lip for a moment, trying to think of how to answer her. The lie would kill him, but the truth would kill her.

She scoffed and gave him more of a sneer than a smile. "That's what I thought," she gave him. "You know, you really don't have to try to cover your own ass, here. We aren't stepping out of line or covering up a damned thing." She watched the pallor take over Cragen's face and she let her menacing grin grow into a downright angry smile. "Even Tucker knows."

 ** _Please leave some feedback; let me know what you'd like to see!_**

 ** _Peace and Love_**

 ** _Jo_**

 ** _MarchCommaJo on Twitter_**


	11. Ineffable 11

_**Mamihlapinatapei (n): The wordless, meaningful look shared by two people who both desire to initiate something, but are both reluctant to do so. (Every time he looked at her, it was pure mamihlapinatapei. They both knew the desire to kiss was strong, but neither moved to make it happen.)**_

 ** _Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

Day three without sleep, without a decent cup of coffee, without any privacy lasting longer than five minutes, without any vitally necessary contact with Olivia. He was snapping at everyone, including her, and they were all snapping right back.

Except Cragen.

He hadn't said one word to anyone, at all, since he'd been told that IAB knew more about his team than he did. He'd locked himself in his office and was the only one who had left the building at night.

Elliot dat at his desk, his mind drifting to his partner, still asleep on a lumpy bunk. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook off the anxiety that was building. He caught a glimpse at the Cragen's closed door, feeling bitter that the man had gone home again, and he realized he was growing more and more hostile toward the aging captain. He tried to get back to work, re-reading files, but as the clock struck seven-thirty, and Cragen walked into the squad room wearing a clean suit, he snarled. "Someone got a decent night's sleep," he spat.

Cragen shot him a sour look. "Someone should do their damned job so they could go home and do the same thing." He rolled his eyes and took a few steps closer to the detectives' desks. He sighed as he dropped large green and white cups on each of the four metal tables. "Think of it as..."

"You're sorry?" Elliot interrupted. "And thank you." He nodded once and brought the hot coffee to hip lips. He sipped and hummed appreciatively.

"I was trying to cover your asses, not mine," Cragen offered. "I know a few people higher up in the food chain have been after your badge for years and if this got out..." He rubbed his chin a bit. "I didn't know you and Tucker were close now," he said, seeing Olivia descending the bunk-room steps with his periphery. "I had a nice long talk with him last night. He had a lot to say about you. And Liv."

Elliot took another long sip of coffee. "My life outside this building doesn't really concern you." He shrugged. "We have issues at work, he's the leader of the rat squad and he gets on our asses for bullshit reasons." He grabbed the coffee off of Olivia's desk and handed it to her as she stepped up beside him. He watched her drink and his cock twitched a bit at the way her eyes rolled. He cleared his throat and took another gulp of his own coffee. Swallowing he nodded. "When he's off duty, and he's in a good mood, he's not such an asshole. He actually doesn't have anything against me and Liv, and he did us a few..."

"Who are you talking about?" Olivia asked, walking around to her side of the twin desks. She set her coffee down and picked up the pile of pink message slips that had been left for her.

"Tucker," Elliot answered, and then he laughed at the expression on her face. He saw Cragen smile and raise a brow, hiding a laugh, and he turned. "I'm not saying we have him over for dinner and drinks every Sunday, I'm just...ya know, I needed his support and he gave it to me."

"And what did it cost you?" Cragen asked, suspicious.

Elliot narrowed his eyes. "Nothing. Not everything with him is a bargain, and I know it's hard to believe but he didn't give us any grief about it."

"I don't trust him," Cragen said, but he nodded at Elliot. "But if the bastards at Internal Affairs aren't trying to string you up for this...they will, if anything ever..."

"It won't," again, it was Olivia that reassured the man.

Cragen's eyes softened as he watched her drink her coffee. He'd never understood why or how she closed herself off to most people, but he knew why Elliot was always the exception to her rules. He nodded at her, attempting a smile, and then addressed the entire unit. "Let's bag this son of a bitch, huh?" He gave another glance toward Elliot before heading into his office.

"Thanks," Elliot said to Olivia, smiling as she sat down.

She squinted up at him in confusion. "For?"

He sat down, then, too, and said, "That. You...you sounded sure, and did you see the look on..."

"I am sure," she said, cutting him off, the days of aggravation and nights of restlessness readable in her eyes. "Why do I have to keep...I know why," she shook her head. "Track record and shoddy history, speaks volumes, but this time...I'm sure."

"Oh, I know it," he said to her with a smile. He sipped his coffee and jutted his chin at Cragen's office. "Now, he does, too. So just. Thanks." He shrugged and winked at her.

"I need to go home, tonight," she told him. "I need a shower, a real one with hot water and soap that doesn't leave my skin feeling like a sheet of glass. I need to sleep in an actual bed...with..." She looked at him.

"I know," he said softly. "Me, too, Liv. Trust me. It's all I've been thinking about for the past three days." He shifted in his seat. "Thinking about it, uh, right now, actually." He made a face at her and shove his hand between his legs to make a rather important adjustment.

She laughed and drank her coffee, turning her head as Fin and Munch walked in, arguing. "Uh oh," she mumbled, rolling her shoulders. "What happened?"

"Your turn," Fin hissed at her, throwing a set of keys in her direction.

She caught them, and then she looked at Munch. "You two been out all night?"

Munch yawned and nodded. He spotted the coffee on his desk and looked at Elliot. "You?"

"Nope," Elliot said, getting up. "Cragen." He held out his hand to Olivia. "Keys?"

She gave him a lopsided grin and lifted one eyebrow. "You have balls," she chuckled, standing. She twirled the keyring around her index finger as she walked backward toward her locker. She pulled her coat off the hanger, but before she could put it on, Elliot grabbed it.

"My job," he whispered to her, holding it open for her.

She shook her head incredulously at him but let him be a gentlemen, this time avoiding his wandering hands. She slapped him in the arm. "Let's go," she said, still clutching the keys.

"We need more coffee," he said, sighing.

"Stairs," she said, making a sharp turn. "Too many people waiting for the elevator."

He nodded and followed her, taking the steps two at a time. "Cragen talked to Tucker, too, it's why..."

"I heard," she said with a sly smirk. "I'm a detective, remember? I know how to eavesdrop." She looked over her shoulder at him as she pushed the stairwell door open. "What do you think it was all..."

"I'll call Ed later," he said, shaking his head, telling her that he didn't want to talk about it. He led her out into the lobby and held the front doors open for her. "You call your landlord?"

She nodded. "He told me three teenagers already cleaned the place out and to drop off my keys by Friday."

"Surprise," he said with a smile, waiting by the passenger side door of the car Fin had parked by the curb.

She caught his eyes over the hood of the car, stopping still before unlocking it. "Why?" she asked with a shrug. "It could've waited until..."

"No," he said, turning up his lips in a negating frown. "It couldn't have."

She took a breath and put her sunglasses on, exhaled, and slid the keys over to him. She laughed when he grabbed them with a victorious whoop and they changed places. She heard the beeps and got into the car, buckling up.

"You know why," he told her, hooking his own seatbelt together. He started the car and looked at her, waiting.

She nodded as her phone buzzed in her pocket. She winked and blew him a kiss as she answered it. "Benson," she listened for a moment. "Great, thanks. We're on the way."

"New lead?" he asked her, finally turning the key.

"No," she said, "The vic's awake. We can go in, get her statement, get out."

"Munch and Fin waited for her to come to for over nine hours," Elliot laughed, pulling away from the police station.

"Well, we got lucky," she shrugged.

"Been lucky," he corrected. "For a long time, baby." He glanced at her once, and then settled his eyes on the road. His thoughts drifted to the last night he'd spent with her, before the case got too complicated. He licked his lips, remembering the way she moved over him, how the look in her eyes changed when she took control.

He felt her hands on his chest, scraping up and down, in the same rhythm as his upward thrusts. He tugged on his tie and shifted in his car seat, biting his lip as he remembered how his name sounded flying out of her mouth as she came.

He shot her a glance as he stopped the car at a red light, and he knew by instinct alone that she must be thinking about it, too. He saw the smirk playing at her lips and the way the fingers of her left hand toyed with her hair.

His face fell and his look became severe as he saw the light turn green. Grinning, he stepped on the gas and reminded himself to call someone as soon as the got to the hospital. His eyes darkened as the evil smirk spread wider across his face.

He couldn't explain it, maybe he never would be able to, but he and Olivia shared the same wavelengths and ran on the same grid. Life had a deeper purpose with her by his side. He shot her another look and felt his heart lurch. He put his eyes back on the road and tried to put the question out of his mind. He never wanted and answer. Ever. What would he do if, one day, she wasn't by his side? He shook his head again and stepped harder on the gas, finally realizing out how to make damn sure he'd never know.

 ** _Please leave some feedback; let me know what you'd like to see!_**

 ** _Peace and Love_**

 ** _Jo_**

 ** _MarchCommaJo on Twitter_**


	12. Ineffable 12

_**Monachopsis - (n.) the strange and deep-set feeling of being out of place or not fitting in. (I knew as soon as I walked into the conference room that I did not belong there at all. The monachopsis was intense, so I slowly turned and walked out.)**_

 ** _Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

She looked at the clock for what seemed to be the fifth time since she'd crawled into bed, and the time hadn't changed much at all. The night was passing slowly, and the fact that she was wide awake only added to the interminability of it. She rolled over with a hard, heavy sigh, trying to forget how awkward her first night in the house had been. It may have been entirely in her head, just her imagination, but she could swear on a stack of Bibles that his children had been giving her questionable and unnerving looks.

Dinner had been quiet, uncomfortably silent. If they didn't want her there, then she didn't need to be there. She tossed herself over to the other side of the bed, carefully avoiding her sleeping lover's body. She looked around the part of the bedroom she could see, mixed feelings filling her heart and head. Photos, all of her and him, some with his children, littered the top of the long oak dresser. Bottles of his cologne mixed with her perfume, her necklaces and rings sat in the same spot as his watch and chain. Their twin badges hugged in the corner and she shook her head wondering how something could look so perfect and so tainted at the same time.

Her eyes fell to the silver knobs of a top drawer, another heavy sigh escaping. She knew, hidden inside, her bras and underwear were folded and pressed against his white tees and boxers. It seemed to make so much sense, and yet, none at all. She mumbled something as she rolled over again, smacking the pillow in an effort to release tension and hopefully get comfortable. Rolling her eyes and grunting, she gave the pillow another hard thwack and turned back over again, trying to look at anything...something...that didn't remind her of the seamless melding of her life with his.

"Tell me," his groggy, raspy voice said, startling her. "What the fuck is bothering you, so we can work through it and maybe get some sleep tonight." He draped an arm over her and pulled her closer to him.

She closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. "Didn't mean to wake you."

"Oh, so you thought I would sleep right through the Russian Ballet you're performing over here?" he asked with a laugh. He kissed the back of her head and pulled her even tighter against him. "What's wrong?"

Shaking her head, she turned over in his arms and said, "I don't belong here." She looked up into his eyes, feeling sorry for waking him up. "Do I?"

He nodded and kissed her softly. "There is no place else in the world you should be," he told her. "Right here, in my arms, is where you belong. Absolutely."

She kissed him and smiled slightly. "I meant, the house, here, with the kids. Was this really a good..." she stopped and looked at him again. "I don't think the kids want me here."

"They do," he assured her. "If they didn't, they wouldn't have moved all your shit over here." He kissed the end of her nose. "It was Dick's idea, actually. He made the offer, and Kathleen and Liz jumped at the chance to help. I guarantee you, if Maureen was home this week, she would have helped, too."

She let out another slow breath. "Okay. But, then, why do I feel so..."

"When was the last time you felt like you had a real home?" he asked, interrupting her. He held her gaze, his eyes cleared of all sleep and his nose pressed to hers. "A real family?"

She was silent.

"That's why," he nodded, interpreting her silence as an answer. "You can't wrap your head around the fact that my kids, who have known you and looked up to you most of their lives, really do love you. You can't grasp...how much I need you, Liv. This isn't temporary. You know that, right?"

"I hope to God it's not," she answered, working her legs around his thighs. "You know, I'm more certain about..."

He cut off her words with a kiss. "You belong here," he whispered before kissing her again. "You have always belonged here." He tangled his fingers in her hair, rolling onto his back and pulling her on top of him. He let out a small, happy sounding chuckle, whispering her name.

"I love that sound," she replied in a whisper all her own.

He pushed her up a bit and made a confused face, cocking his head to the side like a curious dachshund.

She laughed and said, "Your laugh. The sound of you being...happy. I didn't get to see that a lot, before we...not as much as I do now."

"And what does that tell you?" he asked her, skimming his hands up and down her arms. He kissed her, moaning when she made it so much more than he had intended. His hands moved from her arms to around her waist, and then up to her back. He savored the feel of her skin under his fingers.

She maneuvered and shifted her weight, finally settling her body over his in the perfect position. "You're happy," she garbled as she kissed him eagerly.

"So fucking happy," he agreed, moving his hips to the right a bit and then thrusting them upward. He smirked proudly when he saw her eyes roll and heard the moan fall out of her mouth. "Happier than I have ever been."

She nodded, her lip gnashed between her teeth."Me, too," she said to him. She dropped her head and looked down at him, into his eyes, and began to move, sliding off of him, and then back down, taking all of him in.

He gritted out a few choice words before setting his own body into motion and meeting her rhythm. He didn't lie to her. He truly was inexplicably happy with her, completely contented by their relationship and never once regretting or fearing the dynamic shift they had taken by becoming more than partners. He began to move faster, as if trying to prove that exact thing to her with physical action, since no words would ever explain. He grunted as he grabbed her tightly and rolled them over, making her laugh and groan. "Hey, there," he said to her, winking. He kissed her as his hips picked up speed and power, slamming against hers and dragging upward before he pulled out, causing delicious friction against her clit.

"Oh, my God," she cried, her back arching and her head falling deeper into the soft pillow beneath it. "Elliot."

He moaned in adoration, loving the way his name sounded when she said it like that, so filled with emotion, pleasure, and eroticism. "Liv," he whispered into her ear, trying to get himself deeper inside of her.

His breath was hot, right in her ear, sending shivers coursing through her, her blood burning with every thump of her heart. She trembled beneath him, feeling him slow his rolling hips, and she took the chance as she saw it.

"Holy..." he began to gasp, felling her push him upward. He rolled onto his back again, laughing as he looked up and saw her face. Her eyes were hazy, her expression drugged. He reached up and smoothed her hair back, stopping his hand at the nape of her neck. "C'mere," he said softly, a needy smile on his face.

She grinned back as she bent to him, kissing him as she rocked her body, easing off of him, and back on, tightening every muscle in her lower body with every wave of motion. She was rewarded with muffled moans and soft, gravelly growls. Her hands moved to the sides of his face and she held them there, keeping his head still as her kiss ignited an intense fire in him.

He threw his body upward, slamming against hers as she thrust herself down to him. The slight, wet sounds of their skin meshing and sliding and pulling apart blended with their breathless moans and high-toned cries, creating a passionate symphony that only they could hear. "Liv," he moaned against her lips, "God, Liv."

She nodded, knowing, and rocked harder, her body beginning to betray her. She whimpered as the control began to slip through her fingers, succumbing to him. "Elliot," she said, a bare breath, as she pulled his bottom lip between her teeth. Her hands still cupped his face, she refused to let him go, kissing him still as the searing heat rose from her toes through her legs, hitting her aching, throbbing core.

He cursed out loud, a violent tremor making his back arch and his body slamming up into her one last time. He felt her clenching and grasping him, and then his eyes rolled back and his mouth hung open. He couldn't fight through her choking grip, so he held her tighter to him, bodies flushed, and let her contracting pulses pry the resolve away from him.

She squeezed him dry, her own divine release being the impetus for his, and her kiss lost power but grew in depth. She shivered against him, her orgasm redoubling and reverberating, causing light offshoots.

Each spontaneous twitch and clench of her body felt like rapturous misery. He'd never felt such extreme pleasure or uncomfortable pain before, and he didn't know which was more intense. He teased his fingers through her hair, the thought of stopping or letting her roll away from him not even entering his mind. "My God," he panted, his body finally cooling beneath hers.

Still undulating, she nodded, her lips against his. "I didn't think it was possible, but..." she laughed raggedly, her labored breathing making her fast-beating heart whomp against his chest and echo in her ears.

He gave her a confounded look. "We've done this before..." he trailed off, confused.

She chuckled and nuzzled against him. "I meant...that was...like nothing we ever..."

"Oh," he interrupted with wide eyes and a strangled laugh. "Yeah, I...I know. I guess we just...it's always gonna get more and more..." he tried to find words, again coming up with nothing that fit. He looked up into her eyes, his fingers still twisted into her hair. "You know what I'm trying to say."

She bit her lip, nodded, and then lowered her head to kiss him again. She moaned in response to feeling him twitch inside of her, and she chuckled when the same unintentional thrust made him whimper. "I love you," she told him, trying to slip away and roll beside him, but he held her firmly in place. She looked down at him, questions in her eyes.

"Please," he whispered, playfulness replaced by dire need. "Stay, right here," he kissed her and let his hands splay over her back, sighing when she relaxed against him and let her head drop into the crook of his neck. "Where you belong."

 ** _Please leave some feedback; let me know what you'd like to see!_**

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 ** _Jo_**

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	13. Ineffable 13

_**Énouement:**_ ** _(n) The bittersweetness of having arrived in the future, seeing how things turn out, but not being able to tell your past self. (I'd give anything to be able to go back in time and tell my 20-year old self that the man I pined for does love me, and save myself such intense heartache. The énouement is excruciatingly deep.)_**

 ** _Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

The way he looked at her, every time their eyes met, made her heart stop. The smile on his face, one that reached his eyes, filled her with warmth. In her mind, she replayed the events of the day, a similar smile now gracing her own lips. Her fingers toyed with a few waves of hair as she leaned back in her seat. Crossing her legs, she remembered the hectic morning, how challenging it was to get three teens and a seven year old fed, dressed, and ready for school.

It was easier than she'd expected, though, and she mentally made a list of things to do to make the next morning even simpler. She got up and moved slowly toward the archway near the kitchen, her smile growing as her mind wandered. She leaned against the wall and let her head fall against it as she crossed her arms.

She thought back to the way Eli had hugged her tightly before running for his bus. With a sigh, she recalled the moment the boy was born, how it had been her that had brought him into the world and held him as he took his first breath. That's a bond that doesn't break, and she thanked her lucky stars for it.

She looked across the room at Elliot again, grinning at the befuddled expression on his face as he attempted to help his oldest son with his math homework. She folded her arms and the gears in her head turned again. If someone would have told her, years ago, that her future would drop her off where she is now, living with Elliot and his children, loving them, she'd have punched them in the face.

She'd never have believed them, and her first instinct would have been to make them suffer severely for lying to her about something so important to her. She watched Elliot's head spin, watched him smile at her again, and she gave him a small nod before she turned and walked into the kitchen. Her hands skimmed through her hair again as she moved toward the stove. Lifting the wooden spoon off the counter, she shook her head and laughed at her present situation, acknowledging that it was so much better than any future she'd imagined. She stirred the red sauce bubbling in a pot on the front burner, humming to herself.

"Smells so good," his voice rang from behind her.

She moaned and dropped her head backward as she felt him press against her. "You made it," she laughed. "I'm just stirring it."

He kissed the crown of her head and wrapped his arms around her. "You did more than me," he countered. He pulled gently on her hips, spinning her around. "I was thinking..." he paused, his eye narrowed as he looked into hers. "I knew. Part of me anyway. I knew we would...be here...like this." He leaned into her and captured her lips in a soft but deep kiss.

She moaned against his mouth, her hands trailing up his arms to loop around his neck. "Did you?" she asked teasingly, but part of her wanted to roll her eyes at him.

He nodded, kissing her again. "A long time ago, I guess...yeah, when I felt myself falling for you, I prayed...harder than I ever have. For answers, for guidance, for strength...and for you."

"Me?" Her eyes widened a bit and her hands gripped his shoulder blades.

He chuckled, again he kissed her, and he said, "More for you than anything. And I just knew, without a doubt, that my prayers would be answered, and we'd end up here, like this." He dropped his head a bit and kissed her neck, loving the soft moans he heard her let out. "There was never any question, baby."

She smoothed her hands down his back, up again, back down, and settled them in the small curve just above his ass. She moved her head to look into his eyes and held his gaze, intense and emotion-filled, for a long moment before moving and kissing him.

He smiled and pulled her closer, his tongue milling about with hers, his hands groping the toned muscles of her body.

"Wow," a voice from the doorway broke them apart. Dick laughed at the frozen faces of his father and Olivia. "You should see the looks on your...never mind, okay, uh...phone for you, Dad." He held out his father's cell phone and shook his head, laughing again as he walked out of the kitchen.

Elliot shrugged off the mild embarrassment as he lifted his phone to his ear. He slapped Olivia lightly on the ass, watching her turn her attention back to the stove. He listened to the caller as he handed Olivia a box of pasta. He gave her hair a light, playful tug as he watched her drop the contents into a pot of boiling water. "Yeah," he sighed, closing his eyes. "No, we will, it's...it's fine."

Olivia let out a harsh breath and turned sharply. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

He shook his head at her as he said into the phone, "Give us about twenty minutes. We'll meet Warner there." He made a face at the phone before dropping it into his pocket and he rubbed the wrinkles that had formed on his forehead. "Fucking hell."

She eyed him for a moment, disappointment etched onto her face. "I thought Fin and Munch..."

"This is big," Elliot interrupted. "The brass wants us on it. Cragen mumbled something about us being too damn good for our own good before he hung up on me." He chuckled, kissed her again, and sighed. "I'll go tell the kids we gotta go, ask them to save some of this for us." He pressed his lips to her forehead and walked out of the room.

She slammed the palm of her hand against the counter and then turned off the burners on the stove. She let out an unhappy breath as she moved toward the door, but was stopped when a tiny body slammed into her. She laughed and looked down. "Hi, sweetheart."

"Hi," the small boy said, looking up. "I love you." He gave her legs a good squeeze. "I wanted you to know."

She looked down at him again, brushing his hair back. "Oh, Eli, honey." She knelt down and kissed his cheeks. "I love you, too."

He smiled and turned around, scuttling back into the living room.

She stood up again and she saw Elliot, standing in the doorway, staring with tears in his eyes. "I told you...you belong here."

She wiped away her own falling tears, though few, and nodded. "Let's get this over with. I want to come...I want to come home as soon as possible."

He held his arms open for her as when she wandered willingly into them, he led her to the front door. "We'll call!" he shouted, and as he listened to his kids shout back, he walked with Olivia, out of the house and toward the car. He opened the door for her, made sure she was settled, and made his way around to the driver's side.

He stopped short of getting in, turning to look at the house. He smiled, the last dregs of fear and guilt melting away. He couldn't explain it, he'd get a headache if he even tried, but he felt as though his life was truly as it was always meant to be, the missing pieces all now where they belonged.

With a deep breath, he sat in the seat and slammed the door. He hooked his safety belt and started the car, but then looked at Olivia. "You okay?" he asked her, his eyes falling into a squint.

She turned her head, smiled at him, and nodded. "Never better." She reached over and ran her hand through his hair, and it was as if every thought in his head was transmitted to hers. "Yeah," she said with a light laugh. "I can't explain it either."

He blew her a playful kiss as he turned the wheel and headed out to their destination. He grabbed her hand and squeezed gently, then brought her fingers to his lips. He kissed her hand and whispered, "I love you," not knowing how long it would be before he'd be able to say it again.

"I love you, too," she replied with a brightness that made his heart swell.

"How much?" he asked, grinning as he turned the wheel with one hand. He shot her a goofy grin and tilted his head.

"Oh," she chuckled with a roll of her eyes. "More than words could possibly explain." She ran her thumb along the side of his hand and smiled at him.

The rest of their car ride was spent in comfortable silence, because they knew, at the moment, what they were feeling, and thinking, about their life, their jobs, and each other, was utterly ineffable.

 _ **Thank you for reading.**_

 _ **Reviews are always welcome, and encouraging.**_

 _ **Peace and Love.**_

 _ **Jo.**_

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